Invention

Invention - Lovesick

There will be no guide

For what what will be the longest nights

There are to be had

There are to be had

No perception but invention

Of to which majestic heights

The helpless hours hold you

Or to whatever depths they drag

Moving always without sight

Caught like rustling plastic

Bags in the limbs of trees

That line your street

Between impulses to ignite

And the risk attached to

Every spark of light

Error

Silence

Error

Silence

Portraits perfect in design

Hanging flawless

Unobstructed

On the insides of the

Lids of your eyes

Last as long as any other

Lie in the presence of a guiding light

In the arms of divided branches

Imperfection radiates

Marching over silence

In sheets of sparks