A wine induced piece. |
November fell And night rose up from behind the Blue Ridge swallowing the day an hour early The cool air, once again sharp and knowing Hands like soft linen will soon to callus This time is no friend of mine Gone are the days of spring How many nights must now pass before daylight is sweet and plentiful? The naked body beneath these sheets - I writhe, I am anxious I have never been outside of this skin My spirit trapped in the vast maze Somewhere between aging and avoidance I find my name is Confusion, still The lessons of winter, of loss, weigh on my thoughts as again I step into the cloudless dark Half moon, the things of shadow, we are one again Breathless and hungry for tomorrow I trade rest for illusion The unbound child within still does not know we are grown I pale in comparison to those before me Those seekers who tasted the dirt and felt the bruises, each My scars are fantasy, empty This world seen through eyes damned by repetition and souls who never forged a true dream I run by the railways I listen for the cry of the forest I wait for the sound of a steed and a voice Where is the hand that will set free this lovers heart? I beg of the gods give me love and love alone Poverty and misfortune I fear not They are moths and flies Love though, it is lavender and merlot Let it find my lips and my skin Take me from November’s cloak and hold no grudge to my past I lay my head upon the pillow cool And drift my thoughts do I am the one left behind by fairytales I am no ones to find |