lay beside me on
a golden autumn morn,
your hair entangled
in my hair
your hands entangled
in my hands.
though we never shared a lovers dance
my cheek was home with yours.
though we never owned a moments grace
our ship may sail its course.
all tomorrows suffer
from beauty's faltered aim
whence we lay betwixt
things without a name.
sing me dearly
sing me sweet
sing me things
to cause retreat
and I will know
that its concrete
when sunlight hits
the street
but do not light a fire
on the face of winter
and do not burn
the masterpiece
or hide the ashes
in your urn
nor cause your hands a moments
idle
or burn your hair upon this old
candle
upon a golden
autumn morn
i watch you wake
with softened sleep,
upon a golden
autumn morn
with hands entangled
in my hair
an hair entangled
in your hands.