717
lit from
within 
it's first
thing see the webs lit 
know 
alien
craft ashore 
it's always
while you sleep  
they come 
healing
from the year 
it's all of
the one ache 
darkness
was here 
I'm gone to
violence of
seasons is such 
in each 
you won't
believe the others 
but run to
the sun 
run from it
like
christmas 
how a tree
comes lit 
and crowded
under 
all for
love 
it's snow
suggests
but a
sheet's too much
so deep in
the screaming 
your
muffled dream 
what
villainy was 
won't be
remembered 
but I am
here to soothe by touch 
after all
the world's well lit 
 
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.