{ i’ll do it again, and again, and again. }
My name is clay desolation.
My name is innocence.
My name is fate.
My name is heaven.

Oh, my name is naught and when they called
me “clay desolation”, i knew —

when they called me evil, i knew
when they called me weak, so i knew

I would always find my way to you
I’ll show you ruin ||

while we walk upon water i can make
the world my prisoner and stick my
heart inside all ears to hear me

No need to beg God for mercy
“though your sorrows not
any tongue may name,
three i’ll give you sweet
joys for each of them
but it must be your whispers that flower.”
(e.e. cummings last paragraph).

:: 02.13.2021 ::