She is fire in my darkened swamp
warmth on a cold star
mist in morning
naked taste on Sunday
something unforgettable
on Monday
She is fire in my darkened swamp
a soup is but souls of a part
mixed together and blended
much as two as them not of another
can become as part of one
She is fire in my darkened swamp
dancing about sand crabs
all waiting
waiting and waiting for theirs
We are all waiting
but I am waiting
waiting for her
She is fire in my darkened swamp
but now I am waiting
waiting for her
dancing
She is somewhere turning near
i am here
waiting waiting for her
No comments:
Post a Comment