Paroles de Soft Atlas

your ghost blowing up globes. tightening them off with an x-axis-esque c-clamp, then setting them down through the clouds onto empty department store shelves. where they sit facing all sorts of islands out toward dead wee-hour isles. has the earth come loose from its galactic neck beneath you. cut off above the clouds gone let go from the space surround it dropped down done to the sun system's floor crooked pearl of the one universe cleaved, fell rolling toward a corner of the cosmos in the blacked and quiet of come time "and you are all lamb, for this." spring is at your back again this time rare with your clarity... while patches of you thought whole had turned up still. made a tar of your woe and flesh there in have you gone half dead... yet...yet have you to let the worst most be as if it were atlas to your world of cope. and no one is out there scared you'd set your eyes off one the ceiling all night in the dark think of a song or maybe breasts or missing body parts "without a universal law there is no gravity without a gravity there is no atmosphere without an atmosphere there is no chance at life and with no chance at life...i don't exist."