Jamie Gartley | 17 July 2018
There is a cruel underpinning to lust in the moonlight.
A curious and firm feeling that blobs its way into your consciousness.
It stirs and waits until the early morning light beams its aura,
and you feel the gnash of a vicious bite.
‘I am not here, I am not yours’,
said with a sort of pubescent disaffection.
It laughs, and I sleep.
Side One, Track One
Five years flash by in an instant.
There is more to be forgotten than remembered.
Though it seems forgotten far too quickly.
A familiarity in warmth is to be desired;
no matter how often, no matter how long.
I want you, you want someone else.
There’s the difference.
When love’s flame flickered, and we began to falter,
you put out the light. Now I put out the light.