And of places in between houses
where the redwoods could swallow you whole
swollen appendages catch in the knots of radiance collapsing inwards
it's there I replace your face with flowers
sow seed in the hem of your dress
in glowing favor you'll bloom
so I can scatter you around the room
in hopes to keep love near the places we once kept warm
and of spaces between bedsores
where cherubs count our hairs and pours
Lord, let her in or don't let here leave
or find a reason not to leave
and of spaces in between bedsores
where hands clean our hairs and pours
Lord, let her in or don't let her leave
Or find a reason not to leave.
Zeige deinen Freunden, dass dir Redwoods von Foxing gefällt:
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