1776 (Two become one)

Now I grow old, desperation stinking from nightmarish states of mind.
Like a little ritual, putting my pills into their resting spots.
It makes me feel old, a happening in yellow, pink, light blue, and... violent.
Psychotropic drugs: hungry like a pale fish, suck the world of all its color.
It makes me feel old, schoolboy reticence, rows and columns of books so comforting.
Lay on my back, dreaming of the past, dream of innocence again.
It makes me feel old, when I talk about it, it's something you can't handle.
Plays on my fears. Like a bear inside a cave, like a brave new underworld of danger.
It makes me feel old, sticky lights, moving walls, dance for hours with foreigners.
Night at the seashore, eyes back, dream-defined, waiting for moonbeams to take me.
It makes me feel old, glitter of the dance ball, blue dress and blue eyes and blue skin.
Now I come to it: see them twining, two become one and split back again.
Like a little death. Un petit mot, saccharine, I'm inside a flower resurrecting.
It makes me feel old, knowing that this spirit washed inside a shell, flowed
Around the beach-head, took its time finding me who was waiting, face up to the sun,
Moving my lips around like blind animals pulled screaming from amniotic bliss.
It makes me so cold, now the razor cleans me up, now the dregs are oozing.
Now I am young again, something in the sun took pity on my restlessness.
The two became one, me and my spirit light, hot and yet so soothing.
Gliding and moving, emissaries from the dark shaft of the ever-present grey
Afterlife where you and I are talking and our eyes reveal to us... everything.