had to go through us
to get back to itself
the way a tree makes
an apple or an orange
and then you were formed
skipping the intervening years
and skies that had to
suffer and die so
this afternoon could be born
and grow and then suddenly
emigrate into the dark continent
of last night’s dreams
with you I could walk free
as the sun out of
the prison of this world
No comments:
Post a Comment