Untitled the book forth then bring it to the trough. I sp...

Untitled the book forth then bring it to the trough. I speak its name under rough bark. The tires roll on without me. This song is singing and the song knows no field to sleep in. I've been following it for years now, and finally a pause before the eject button is pressed and I'm a flying back into my body's nose dive. Where are the valleys I stabbed with ladders? Where is the sky that has slowed to a crawl, rocks pushed into it's pocket to sink in some ocean or another? I'm done with it and it