With Lines 2008 His radiant Morse code, the way each breath jump-starts a holy wave, all twists and sighs align to confiscate the kind of tension that obstructs the ride. All my thoughts, the moon falling around the Earth. Touch like an apple proving the weight. You, more than the world, the crack of energy I fall to, and it hurts. Face glide and project, tug hard with fists and forget the day that pouts through my face. Hot dear, in a minute we spin out from the center, pressed and whispering gallow-speak to fool the unhinged who hover in wait of our ultimate implosion. Inside we drip warm, echoing the laughter of an easy secret, an open secret, the preparation of our stealthy execution to cover the world with lines.