Whisperer

You play my nerves like strings, all upside down.
Try to keep straight… my limbs are bonding now.
Since a few aprils ago, endless chase
to send away this… tireless persistence of taste.

With a touch of your words
I saw the devil sneak between my fingers (all to familiar)
With a touch of your words
I’ve learned to reverse. It’s gotten me no where…

A deep shade of horizon gold…
the constellations remind me I am home.
We were lit from the west, our silhouettes,
yet a sight of industrial-ness
as the silence wins over every word.

What am I supposed to think about wondering round inside out…?
Patterns don’t feel right, still speaking like you know what I’m all about