28 janwary marg

I found you behind the stairs
With a knife clasped in your hands
And I woke in the bedchamber with
blood on my chest.
Out there on the glum coast
The captain sailed home with his plump boats
He was taken goods, women and all
by pirates
How can I forget
It was there we met
In just such an age
Of fairytales
We’d sat on the gunwale
And knew that though all conditions were met
The time was not right.
Needless to say the seas have been wild
And we’ve traveled well

if matters came to a head

Nevermind
For when I die
Or wear the cross of thorns
(whichever is first)
I’ll bequeath the realm of my mind
To you
See what you can do with it
See what you find
Don’t stop at the surface
Look in the pulp below the rind