To die, to sleep, to sleep, to dream... what if I fall in love, then what, am I meant to just sit back and laugh? The clock ticks the time dies the silence burns then the cows return and all is well. A double happy or two, slid up the bumper - more than a kaboom but less than a bang easy happiness, so simple - confusion much less, the death of self-respect and then no! I can't believe I won't believe this jigsaw piece is not my own... someone else's puzzle, it even smells different. Roses not growing, not dying, not seeded nor scented, a lot of life, a big chunk of apple pie complete with cinnamon aroma - once eaten, turns bitter in purple stomach, twisted, seething, snaking, dying, slipping through fingers, the sand drops, so hard to pick up again... and so it is left to melt on the red planet, left to cry, left to weep for its own uselessness and dead end... love has gone in search of another ocean, and that's what they say - life's a beach, and then you die