It is late,
too late for me to close my eyes and sleep...
Things finish, at times
Things make Sign, at times...
I saw the moon,
next to her grave...
I think I'd rather be liked than known
And I know myself so much less than I should...
Dreams, captured, held
and nursed against the...
Your mind is a stack of all sorts of things
When you are asked you always have a ready answer...
You go to the church
You cross your heart...
She put on a mask
realizing her old self...
Suddenly,
I have this itching...
You smell of poetry again.
The world has grinded to...
The sun up high does shine too bright
upon a daffodil in sight...
I come back
to the little girl on a swing...