Turn the lights down and remember me.... Aren't we still the same--? in shadows of incoherent innocence and beauty? In the soft and limpid florals of the spring? Am I not the same--? still warm, somehow?
My love--
Can we not, still make it here? In ancient fires? Turn me toward you, in your mind-- Wanting-- Erase the blight with lips still seeking mine Hair has drifted off-- the years to catch the moonlight on a shoulder as nothing else will