song for a secret home

23 January 2013 § Leave a comment

if they ever come in,
welcome ’em simply.
and should they go,
thank god’s some lovely.

he showed the blues the night,
kept cold the dark journeys
we sowed in moldy towns,
the crooked nails of a staircase
in a whiskey old west saloon.

it’s been one-third of a well-told
tale since you and I were
more than a mandolin apart –

dreamcatcher above, she says
I can feel that you hold me in
your nightmares so tight, and
I just want you to need me tonight.

I’ve seen the moon dying
in the burning of the sky,
she said, so I quieted
the light as it plucked rays
from her phosphorous eyes.

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