August nothing.
I will come back to you
Like English tea
Staining the cuff of your business shirt
Resembling a puddle neath
An insipid light
You will turn ever so slight
To see if I am there
& of course, I will not be
But my tousled spirit
Shall set you chin-down consumed
As I am far away
Behind a fog drift window
Near yellow-pink chrysanthemums
Lifting their chins to dear me it all
For it is much too late to not know
Some things certainly
Love plays like sunlit chords
- When it ends, you are either inspired or
Long to be dead.
Puppet shows are for children, yes?
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