and what a thing to be:
pale, proud ghost against the weight of the night,
a milky white island in a darkening sea.
Calm it stays, even if it sees the abyss,
whether by wind, or shaken by a kiss.
but baby i know we’ve both witnessed this dance before:
wild & wicked, too much to ignore,
like holy birds of love, locked in eternal war.
Gather your worries, shake off your dust,
and circle with me around the moon;
make it fast, I hope to see you soon,
before we are gathered away in a gust.
November 24th, 2012
1:02 — 1:07 AM