My love
Rests on imaginary nails.
My body 'neath moonlit willow trees,
The siren calling, "Hari Krishna!" Pulling the monk
Out from
Under dreams of harmony and peace, to place
Love back in it's proper hierarchy.
Tossing his silken gown,
We prey.
Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 9:57 PM UTC
My love
Rests on imaginary nails.
My body 'neath moonlit willow trees,
The siren calling, "Hari Krishna!" Pulling the monk
Out from
Under dreams of harmony and peace, to place
Love back in it's proper hierarchy.
Tossing his silken gown,
We prey.
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