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Oh dusk intended silences & corners pulling yellow |
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With valleys for their styluses & graphics for her fellow |
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Our Sunday morning starknesses sang false endearing senses |
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A frame of preening darknesses made mortar for their fences |
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It is not over, you just don't know what you have done |
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When we're nervous for all our sins in grainy wilted blessing |
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Deserved of whistling cardinal winds while gravity's redressing |
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Oh smokepure strain of meeknesses & deathly-bound allying |
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Too many little sweetnesses, so much life in denying |
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I always wanted you to know I never wanted you to go |
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Your savior dies in empire glow but never tries to let it show |
