The witch hasn't visited.
Perhaps it's my turn.
We correspond in sleep,
restless,
swapping faces with
everyone we see
awake.
We rode in a gondola once.
She laid me in her lap.
Rowing itself for us,
slowly, oar turning through the foamy canal
she told me Diana was watching us
a smile in her all-seeing eyes.
Diana, of course, has not visited either.
Moonbeams do not see me in sleep.
The stars have begun to dim
but there is such a soft light left in them
in my dreams, that is.
The witch and I loved to walk.
Speaking in tongues.
Tasting hypocrisy,
tasting cowardice and disaffected sentiment
the living world has no room for us.
The witch has not visited.
Perhaps she found a place to go.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 5:18 AM UTC
The witch hasn't visited.
Perhaps it's my turn.
We correspond in sleep,
restless,
swapping faces with
everyone we see
awake.
We rode in a gondola once.
She laid me in her lap.
Rowing itself for us,
slowly, oar turning through the foamy canal
she told me Diana was watching us
a smile in her all-seeing eyes.
Diana, of course, has not visited either.
Moonbeams do not see me in sleep.
The stars have begun to dim
but there is such a soft light left in them
in my dreams, that is.
The witch and I loved to walk.
Speaking in tongues.
Tasting hypocrisy,
tasting cowardice and disaffected sentiment
the living world has no room for us.
The witch has not visited.
Perhaps she found a place to go.
Sometimes I miss her appearances.