And history
is squinting into
the songs that are
sung when people
touch
and the lies
are gasping under
the embrace of love
the jaded tongues
of lost moments
spinning a fragile web
of tales to cover
ones pain
and a handful of
fragrant autumn leaves
grabbed in passing
are covering
my throat
to stir the
sound
within
is squinting into
the songs that are
sung when people
touch
and the lies
are gasping under
the embrace of love
the jaded tongues
of lost moments
spinning a fragile web
of tales to cover
ones pain
and a handful of
fragrant autumn leaves
grabbed in passing
are covering
my throat
to stir the
sound
within
