Milk and honey And China blue Lemonade night-time shade Heavy talks Barefoot walks Pale breath and quiet air And hands in my hair Trace each word in heart shaped lines Divine
Talk to me in topaz Because diamond’s just conceited glass And oh, how I love your birdsong laugh Killing the angry lurking silence In which all soon shall drown
“What do you write about?” “Depends. Nothing real mostly.” “You should write about right now. This moment. It deserves a poem.”