There she stands, An angel with broken hands, An angel with stones for wings, She sings the sun away And spins timorous sky ashade Of wonder, thunder row'n’ down Her body, she sang of me As I died asleep
Another night, my eyes too worn to cry, Too alone for an expression of lonliness To bare any meaning.
The sapphire trail Skylark doled to drain The riverrun grass of Substance built.
Lifted in hypoxic transcendence Glistening with light, ****** gold, Skin to lilt, and touch to felt And dawn rotted unto morning With one less life having made it.