All the night.
All the dusk.
I walked down the street. Walked with my head up, drinking rain.
Secrets about rain.
Secrets, secrets about somesuchnonsense, she whispered. Her words. curve. Sorrow is nonsense syllables.
Night. Nights broken.
You. You left. Shattered, grains. Screams of ghosts. Night. Night is good. I am homeless. I am broken. Words creep across stained glass. I sit in churches. Sit, glance, seize dayz and throw them out.
Too many lines. You snarl. Too many lines like cat claws. Throw words in gutters.