For Aslam Saliyuth

It's a good thing ears give out before pulse. My jaw jacked back and left to right couldn't quite get off the carousel. You discovered yourself in the lights and that you could robot to jungle. Nothing better than marley in the morning except when you realize there's no odd shaped glass and paper umbrella when dawn shoots you dead in the alley. BPM as a measure of excitement; when the drum rolls and the head tolls. Can you stand acid when you're sober? Some sort of departure, knowing what we missed and what went missing. Do you still pretend its a strangers hand when coming your hair with your fingers? The thing about out is that one bleeds into another, promises stale, calendars fail to make clear every fading rumors.