june used to pass more easily

one wire
these miscellaneous reminders
I promise, I'm trying

his voice is soft and something
I feel you'd sing to

in some ways, most days
I await death patiently, contented

in others
I feel the voracious pull of summer
	lust, longing, destruction...

a foreign sun sets, pouring a glow
of warm yellow-orange light
the colors I want to mix with blood
when I get lost in thought