March 2011
XIII
cordisre:
After
I told her
I loved her,
she asked
what my
favorite song was.
I heard her name
twice in my head
as I wrote it
along these words:
You are a song.
You are
my favorite song.
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He blew like powder to the light
And held a little sabbath with the sun,
But when the stars, assuming shape,
Drew in his eyes the straws of sleep,
He drowned his father's magics in a dream.
He blew like powder to the light
And held a little sabbath with the sun,
But when the stars, assuming shape,
Drew in his eyes the straws of sleep,
He drowned his father's magics in a dream.
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February 2011
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