Our questions could tear apart forests,
Our answers would scare these artists,
This love contends the moon,
Howling like wolves of syllables strewn,
To ask that is to rival men,
To say that questions mother's amen,
Sing to me as if there's no end,
Show me you're my lone godsend.
Can these birds fly our homes to paradise?
Will these currents carry me, for a price?
To the days of easy belief,
Of simple life and careful relief.
How I long to drift to sleep,
How long I have been knee deep
In dreams worthy of ethereal escape,
Of efflorescent evanescence and similar shape.
Of sly phantoms and edible stars,
Of broken bones and hidden scars.
You can't stoke the thunder that burns in her fading heart,
But only tend the flame that dims while apart.