This small town quiet night has left
My mind imagining you free,
The world cracked open at its fault,
Fruit ripe and willing from that tree
That leaves no indication here,
Where traffic is a happenstance
Until you make yourself appear
And I invite your sly advance...
Fresh Eden always ours to test
Against a subtle offering
To be like gods and never rest
And never cease at conjuring.
Come ******* seed in innocence--
Don't look behind for consequence.