Thursday, October 11, 2007
she hoped one day
to catch those ribbons of melody in the sky
and those lights....
that purple muttering sound
his words that thaw night like spring to ice
sounds like bright bands clasping tight
sounds like she might sleep tonight
and how can it be so cold in September?
Is it too much to ask him by moonlight?
By the faintest scent of holy basil
rose winds in the morning
tailwinds in the evening
traveling towards their annihilation
carefully selected, plucked then pushed away...
just remember the time
he tore through the rain fields to find you
to bring you back East
though it cracked those frozen blue jewels
on your cardinal mask
and as the city rises
they're singing their hurt over the sweet unknown
I still hear so much about them
dressed in black
in endless protest to each others absence
in desperate need of someone to put an end to this
in happily ever laughter.