Untitled.

At all hours of the night
I can feel some beautiful spirit move through me like a desert wind
Because I like to feel dry, and tight, every pore closed up and
My skin like a suit that fits perfectly
And my hair feels thick in my fingers, just like a young man's should
We piled pillows or built tent fortresses against the wind
Or at least I did
I brought at least ten time as many comic books in
As I'd ever have time to read, and my eyes
Were looking for cracks in a vase not yet built
But my mind was in the stars, in the moving stars
I built tent fortresses against the rain
Where cats would scratch and force their way in
It was nothing like the nitrous tents my thoughts have made
To turn myself in
Because at all hours of the night
I can feel beautiful
And a spirit moves through me that is unlike any other
Dry and tight it has the face of pharoah and the breath of god
Wherever you are.