From the height of your long-lasting sorrows I awoke to a sky scabbed over by stars too old to caress even the ugliest rose with anything but dying light. In the Fallout Zone of human touch, a couple bound by their parent’s routines not the dreamed terrain of deep-velvet tones of swooning love – of the casual suicide and flower adorned motorcycle accidents. Some bitterness runs too deep, and a heart made weak by daily breaks, cannot be fixed. Time fossilises in each wound until the lonely, sainted discovery appears in celestial dark light – that all we have is each other and nothing is so beautifully lost.
Written by David Hay