Hate Is Like A Swordfish, Working Through

I Ask Permission To Be Like Everybody Else,like The Rest Of The World And What's More, Like Anybody Else:i Beg You, With All My Heart,if We Are Talking About Me, Since We Are Talking About Me,please Resist Blasting The Trumpet During My Visitand Resign Yourselves To My Quiet Absence.

Day-colored Wine, Night-colored Wine, Wine With Purple Feet Or Wine With Topaz Blood, Wine, Starry Child Of Earth.

If Each Day Falls Inside Each Night, There Exists A Well Where Clarity Is Imprisoned. We Need To Sit On The Rim Of The Well Of Darkness And Fish For Fallen Light With Patience.

Hate Is Like A Swordfish, Working Through Water Invisibly And Then You See It Coming With Blood Along Its Blade, But Transparency Disarms It.

What Does Autumn Go On Paying For With So Much Yellow Money?