Nerves of the Nightmind

All the vegetation in the settled world is stirring
I'm blurring into sun-burnt and heartbroken worrying
about how the day took such a long time to die
when it was reeking of women I once had on my side
but now that I've found another smell to believe in
I'm buzzing like hell just to hope I can breathe it
and resurrect the simplistic calm in some eyes
that are trying to find you or
bury your nightmind
and it will take
time.

Oh, your tongue and the twilight marina
when so young and brave and still dreaming
getting to know you lash by dark lash
the rooms where you sleep in
the floors where you crash
and gas-stations are pleasantly blowing
thunder rolls for dresses you're wearing
on a body so unknowing
of what that blowing's for our preparing
and patience is never affording
when prettiness and sweetness are pouring
out from you and
onto me and
dampness of sweat is the sweetest recording
and you can lay with your head on my body
the worlds of the night and disease try to rob me
all the vegetation in the settled world is stirring
but stillness and calmness are all that I'm hearing
now
and it will take
time.

But time is for hearts that don't know what they're eating
and nerves that don't spend every night-chance retreating.