the id of things
the id of me
propelled me like a wind
bringing milkweed
combing over your fields
spangled and sprawled out--
face full of an unperforated grey,
listless and forced to watch
the uneasy presence
of forever changelessness
no matter how imploring
Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 3:42 PM UTC
the id of things
the id of me
propelled me like a wind
bringing milkweed
combing over your fields
spangled and sprawled out--
face full of an unperforated grey,
listless and forced to watch
the uneasy presence
of forever changelessness
no matter how imploring