Check out a new song from our upcoming 7”. Read the lyrics. Reblog. Tell your friends.
Exhaling swells of southern summer.
Respirations whispered in my ear,
bounding about within my head,
louder every day, composing year after year.
The empty salt house in June,
full of fingers flirting with sleepless nights.
(horse-mint, yellow jessamine)
Spring tones of dirt and bone.
Salt in your hair and the few years since.
The hotels that didn’t last and the bars that did.
Soft sleep in the reeds, we watched winter undress.
I was afraid I’d die
Now I’m afraid I won’t
A vessel for nothing
a home for no one
Like magnets, opposing channels.
Processed prints of chests in flannel.
Like smiles (against smiles), teeth exposed,
burning against the back of perfect pink envelopes.
Begging to feel the friction of skin against skin.
with flares between, a perfect portrait of what it meant
to be whole, or at least part of.
like the glare on hardwood floor,
near my feet but never underneath.