Back of the Garden

In the back of the garden

Buried in dirt to the bone

I held ghosts in my arms

Deathless because of it all

Past the desert in cascading light

Breathing what's left of the air

I'll wait 'til I'm starving

I'll wait 'til I'm home

I had figured a half waking end

And the risen will all still pretend

That they fuck under stars

Falling asleep in her hands

I'll wait 'til I'm starving

I'll wait 'til I'm home

Deep in the morning chatter

We can go pitter-patter

Laid out by hands that flatter

We can go in

Always with bad intentions

Half-faced with good erections

All aches and precipices

We can go in

We can go in

Fall through the air, my head covered in stones

And what's left of the Earth has gone by

Breathing her life in the dust of the fall

And what's left me has just been revived

And I'm crying