silver lines your hairline up to the street signs that sing in dead time. please don't stare at the clock too hard, for spotlights burn out when a ten-point compass fails. revise my distant aliar into the stratosphere. fictitious waves carry you here. the recluse always kisses a sheet. to drape across a random marquee. send away the rope that burns. the next page on the calendar turns. you'll find a friend, seat belt release translucent brain frequent/seize the day i go away to and see, and well, i end these saves. that's my lie a. you never will continue to make weather storms in my room. that's my lie a.