When she left me I was left in my loft room. Wooded walls were a pine brown tomb and though I called from my sleep through the ether to her hallowed halls only sometimes did she remember and then we talked. And I descended into the pit and the blood red it flowed big and the cigarettes I smoked all. I was sick. But somehow I drifted on through time and all that grew, the ups and the downs, the downs I knew, downs were common... but the ups, they were few. Then another walked in and in her I knew that this time, this time, time ran anew. And we played a long game of make believe love living entwined hands clasped wearing gloves as we weren't open though we shared all that we could and that calf skin was baby flesh not thick enough… and though paired with close touch and both saying yes we two knew that that yes that we shared would one day, be too much. But together before the parting we built a space. And that place is a shell lined with wood. And in it I remain although I could chant some other lively refrain and I should but the blood it grows inside me and the smoke it consumes me and I repeat the meat of the days that I spent when the heat left me. And there’s no new, just repeating, it’s what we do, so life depleating, but within the spark, it’s so refreshing and oh so invigorating but now within walls of wood I’m loosing the good and all that I should and the dark it’s encroaching... but new refrains, they're developing. We’ll see where that leaves me with the wood? with the leaves? within the trees? Surely not again with new blood...