you could mend me a little bit
stomped and right
kissing your golden eyes

when I awake, there is the sun
of another morning
and another morning song

in front of me, thing of beauty
batting his eyelids
breathing something in

could it be me –
the broken doll of dreams
or something more, glistening?

I see such a tempest riding by
rain glitters on us
a window shows love cry

and you could mend me
a little bit, while my scents you
keep breathing in.