the bon iver record is on.. the opening chords of 'towers' fill the room. i just finished painting color samples on the wall that i have had tucked away for months and sit down to take them in. idleness.. my mind goes blank and emotions flood in. i lay back and stare out the window.. my eyes focus without even trying at smoke billowing out of a chimney somewhere in the distance. in that moment, i try to think of something profound to say that could echo my heart. but there is nothing. just tears, when i thought they had all gone. G walks by me and his soft fur grazes my feet as he does. i had forgotten about the samples on the wall... i try to fill my mind with the colors and the scent of the vanilla amber burning and the sound of the music and nothing else.
for the love, i'd fallen on
in the swampy august dawn
what a mischief you would bring young darling!
when the onus is not all your own
when you're up for it before you've grown
from the faun forever gone
in the towers of your honeycomb
i'd a tore your hair out just to climb back darling
when you're filling out your only form
can you tell that it's just ceremon'
now you've added up to what you're from
build your tether rain-out from your fragments'
break the sailor's table on your sacrum'
fuck the fiercest fables, i'm with Hagen
for the love, comes the burning young
from the liver, sweating through your tongue
well, you're standing on my sternum don't you climb down darling
oh the sermons are the first to rest
smoke on sundays when you're drunk and dressed
out the hollows where the swallow nests
in the swampy august dawn
what a mischief you would bring young darling!
when the onus is not all your own
when you're up for it before you've grown
from the faun forever gone
in the towers of your honeycomb
i'd a tore your hair out just to climb back darling
when you're filling out your only form
can you tell that it's just ceremon'
now you've added up to what you're from
build your tether rain-out from your fragments'
break the sailor's table on your sacrum'
fuck the fiercest fables, i'm with Hagen
for the love, comes the burning young
from the liver, sweating through your tongue
well, you're standing on my sternum don't you climb down darling
oh the sermons are the first to rest
smoke on sundays when you're drunk and dressed
out the hollows where the swallow nests
[bon iver]
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