It either comes before and becomes the motivation to do it, or comes after it’s done, a spell that has been cast, a weaved web, something to act on, the waves push and pull, in the next moment, another action, seasons come and go, the stars in the sky, a deeply embedded architecture, the depths of the abyss and all the undercurrents, strings pull and you'd do the same, according to the situation, and the scattered seeds, grow where we may, so much work to be done, why do we do it, the branch extends, all these feelings, summed up by a fruit being eaten, the sun and the moon, again and again, how the cookie crumbles, so many dragons and old ghosts, yearning for the innocent, the echo of so many lives lived, your father caressing his hand through each part of it, the culmination of feelings and the depths of hell, dreaming of something real, but what does it amount to, simply a life you dared to live, money and the height of our ambitions, what can wealth buy, so many opportunities for the innocent, so many ways, for the fish to bite the hook, real it in, the taste of raw flesh, so juicy and wet, so much sex, a hole opening, a deeper hunger, waiting in the distance, a vampire needs to feed, we require sustenance, satiated by words and ideas, just a poet, a mermaid beckons and you jump into the abyss, then you wake up, it was just delusions and dreams…

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