Hey are we here? herair? Air of brindle
e we here? hererror? Air of brindle her air of tone-deaf squalls ~
remember'd the
comet ~
it required a certain delicacy she wanted
escaped its permanent hope resting
by pillows and a fragrant hour something she
recalled as a wished for clown residing calm
yet frowning for heaven's sake taking the forsaken ritual for its
automatic typing ~ .
with that she lit cigarette cigarette taking her own best step
_
i'm always in your steps ~ breathing
thinking of these names ~ yours ~ .
(they are yours you know ~ )
(yes really )
