I thought,
As I sat in my chair
About you –
And I decided,
To gift you a letter
Making clear my wish:
You’re pretty, and it’s not just your colours
You hold grace. I’ve known women
that envied you
You do things to the sun,
His light shines in clumsy beams
When you’re around
You do things to the sky,
He stands proud and stout
After you leave
You do things to the rain,
Even the storms tread gently
In your presence
You do things, to me
Come and stay in my house –
I’ll worship you.
Feb 15, 2021
Feb 15, 2021 at 4:58 AM UTC
I thought,
As I sat in my chair
About you –
And I decided,
To gift you a letter
Making clear my wish:
You’re pretty, and it’s not just your colours
You hold grace. I’ve known women
that envied you
You do things to the sun,
His light shines in clumsy beams
When you’re around
You do things to the sky,
He stands proud and stout
After you leave
You do things to the rain,
Even the storms tread gently
In your presence
You do things, to me
Come and stay in my house –
I’ll worship you.
From "PICNICS WITH THE PAIN" - unpublished.
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