When we'll blow the torch
Summon me onto your porch
'Til into your parlor again
How can you still smile?
There you are, it's been a while
Back to the town where you live
Can I speak to you
Like I've always wanted to
With every eye on my face?
Where you find my words
Wiggle snakes out of the earth
Omens and our not of place
I'm a screen porch flyer
I am drying flowers
I'm a postcard read, filed and fed to it's place in the drawer
Winter in the south
Autumn from a northern mouth
Acts like the cruelest month lived
When I last was here
Happy to return my dear
Talk for a while and let's sit
Ample was the floor
Sleeping in the clothes we wore
That night we called it a bed
With no fear of shame
The less I could a common name
Felt out the lie between us
I'm a bowing eye
I'm a pilgrim south
I'm a toy you both speaking slow as it sentenced the end
You dreamt that I died
My face on another side
Stretched like the string on the door
Feel my pulse and tap
Bleach my blood mantras and
Claim every ounce of it yours
Two weeks on the land
Now I'm back at home again
Nowhere to rhyme but the tape
Often goes the sound
Of a hearts uncertain hound
Clinging the bars of it's tape
I'm a hotel shower
I'm a tempted snake
I'm a distant howl making sound as it dreeps on the floor
Talented with words
Am I more than pretty verse?
Read by a voice in your head
Am I on your mind?
After all this kindling cried
Building around like a sand
Now I hold the torch
Now the amputation's yours
Glowing on fire like a cake
I'll be thirty-one
Next month and I only want
You by my side as I wake
I am no wrong turn
Is there such a thing?
There are only turns that we take at one time, it's okay