Leading the page like a drunken sailor, Dreaming
Of blue sea taking it all.
Washing to sea and sky.
Best sit up straight,
Buckle the gallows and eves,
Rushing this long song.
We have a thousand sunlit mornings, until one morning we don't. Our name tied to our toes. When the first blue day goes on with you.
Like a Saturday drunk on the avenue, stumbling through the thickets of his life: Perchance a gamble, A dream
Of Sunday asleep on the couch, while the world hums
All around you.
And it's become your scarlet letter, A threshold of sun and moon. Care for another? I've
Knocked myself silly on this one, What should I call you
When you come knocking?
cont. tommorow-