Barbed wire clay in blood the words said
on thorns kiss a cheek of snow
your face eats and conceals
seasons turn into rings in your waterlake
we fry slices of cut up identities
more than 4 seasons
your face turns into autumn
dreams shouts tears my interior
not a room but many
there are more I whisper aloud
to glasstown

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Mr Gwen’s Head Turn and Return, video, 2008