A most beautiful river once crossed my path
and took from my eyes, cut out exact.
as she placed them upon her buttercup petals.
I find that making least noise, myself, the empty vessel.
Speculation is bound by my own physics
and just once I ask that eros might visit.
Take my greys and portraits painted blue,
mix it for the colour I nearest choose.
Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 4:11 PM UTC
A most beautiful river once crossed my path
and took from my eyes, cut out exact.
as she placed them upon her buttercup petals.
I find that making least noise, myself, the empty vessel.
Speculation is bound by my own physics
and just once I ask that eros might visit.
Take my greys and portraits painted blue,
mix it for the colour I nearest choose.