Clouds a wispy blanket, grey and purple spiderwebs,
the center of the universe is to be found here, in the reflection through dirty glass,
the air, thick and soupy, desperation hanging on my lips, soaked into every utterance,
Taking back every burnt offering to loneliness, I believe the soul to be unhindered,
that in my minds eye the chart is laid out, I believe I can live in paradise.