Friday, March 26, 1993

My scream ends low

My scream ends low,
A gutteral noise
For your injury is base

I cry
You bleed
And I watch my tears
Join with raindrops
Falling lightly

The rain hushes
To listen to the sirens

The radio continues
Not knowing
- I cannot hear -

Let me scream
And bleed with you
A tear
A raindrop
A noise, ending low

Friday, March 5, 1993

If you were made of darkest gold

If you were made of darkest gold
With eyes of ocean green
Then stay with me to blackness
And be the last thing seen

If with age your dark hair turns
To silver filigree
Then change as well to Arctic ice
And share your soul with me

If out of wax you came in bronze
To glance with ruby fire
I'd cast myself in softer lead
And burn with your desire

And if you were made with ferrous' name
And rusty eyes I'd love you just the same