What's the word
Before you enter the key
Into the system of me, and you
Do you know that
Some words better be left unheard
Shredded, unthreaded they fall
All around me,
Like tree-leaves on a steep rise-above
In the winter of howls, and hymns, and he-as-us,
And whatever they use to avoid
Us of words us
See,
There's a blanket on the floor
And I can give you a pair of socks,
So warm,
You cither-playing little mischief-maker
Cite music to my ear,
Why not cuddle up
In the lap of one
Not using you to obtain
Anything that he doesn't have
While
In the cage of your age
We can both go snow-blind
For a very short
Spring of time.
2012.
Spring of time
© Copyright: Андрей Тюков, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112101808116
Свидетельство о публикации №112101808116
Рецензии