I wanted to think about you clearly, the way you
think clearly about a bottle of green glass
full of coins in your bedroom,
the way the light hits it in the morning
and your eyes blink with early.
I was apparently living then, my
head wrapped in silk because
I am a head of corn-- my pearly
gold is a treasure I put in your hands:
a harvest of happy, a rustling field.
We played music for hours then, my
teeth tingling from the harmonicas,
your fingers numb. I tumbled over a
bale of daydreams; your fingers played
with my hair-- I was apparently living then.
Apparently Living
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your eyes blink with early.
ReplyDeleteWHAT a line. It is too wonderful.
janie Janie JANIE
ReplyDeleteI wish I talked to you more often.
Is it a regret if I can still do it?
This is me, talking to you. Hello.