He would spin gold
On you thoughts
And put you in
Some of those
Slight cages
Of dust and metal
Wire
But you'll be
Caught by the wind
Blowing with it
Till you reach the
Cold fabric above
Smiling while
Damaging it
A million pieces
Of the sky
Small drops of
Water in that
Fall of hair
You shake the
Pearls off
They land on
My arms
Sinking into my
Skin in silence
Look, your blood
Weaved with mine
Crimson
Wednesday, 8 December 2010
CRIMSON
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