There is the night. Scandalous Like unpronounceable words. His green dance. His green Moon. Private. Of love they say. Body to love. Now and always his adorned look. Its after the mirror. !Well of course! Clear light. After that it was glass. Of fractal lines. They run cold. In each moment it is shaped. The long and loud light. The color devours. At the command of death. Scandalous. Within each moment. That grows. And it grows. Until the next. If you want me for a moment. Inside your hands. Out in the park. If you love me as in thought. In sleepy music.