Look, up in the clouds
full of black horizontals;
a night is born
in little dawdles,
in brown day bank gasps,
earliest stars bowling to break.
I am here, with you, under it;
planning to grant you
the little pictures
that you so desire.
This chapter belongs
to us; to us.
Look, left of the moon,
by the rain steeples;
a night is born.
Jan 11, 2021
Jan 11, 2021 at 8:05 PM UTC
Look, up in the clouds
full of black horizontals;
a night is born
in little dawdles,
in brown day bank gasps,
earliest stars bowling to break.
I am here, with you, under it;
planning to grant you
the little pictures
that you so desire.
This chapter belongs
to us; to us.
Look, left of the moon,
by the rain steeples;
a night is born.
