read me again (01.25.2018): alms for an almanac
The toil and over-turned earth of it, for but a dearth of believable dreams.
The toil and over-turned earth of it, for but a dearth of believable dreams.
Against all my heart has loved I hold a difference and a debt
It was a rickety rack and a rook at risk, all chess to be checkmated, I swear.
Maybe it doesn’t matter if you do right.
The cloth of music is sewn as the spiny drum spins its wonder-thread.
Swing your smile on my heart like children play
My heart abruptly, but softly, suggests, “Tell her.”
I’ve heard some say, ‘reason reigns.’
Inevitably, Pain and Love are banded…
That day, as I recall, seemed so accursedly longer than most…
Love is insatiably selfish…