Shrouding all the ground around me
Is this holy crow above me.
Black as holes within a memory
And blue as our new second sun.
I stick my hand into his shadow
To pull the pieces from the sand.
Which I attempt to reassemble
To see just who I might have been.
I do not recognize the vessel,
But the eyes seem so familiar.
Like phosphorescent desert buttons
Singing one familiar song...
Last Updated: | Sep 01, 2009 |
Times Viewed: | 1,864 |
Times Rated: | 107 |
Rating: | 9.471 |
you have been rated fairly