Longing for the ether The gentle birdsong tears into my lapsing pose Plagued by what I could have been And the gentle birdsong tears into my slowly lapsing pose I am slave to your comfort I am dirt to your dogma Forever Ingratiating myself Howling after lost compassion In this stillnes I have stirred Unkempt nails wounding the leather Eyes - marbles in glass Smothered by concrete towers, drenched in sweat A cold needle's point is felt Somewhere