They speak too loud, mountains shout. So quieten down, so smug with your summit-self. But nothing sings or sweetness-brings (lips of lace, air -displacing) like you do. A whisper met my choke-gripped neck, you said "our love's a photo." A photo (of an embryo); no lips to talk, but clearly formed. Rest at home in a womb adobe.
from Photo of an Embryo,
released April 15, 2015
All written, performed, recorded and produced by Jonny Gleadell.