|
egyptians hold kisses in waves |
|
letting go of everything that i tried to save |
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your hands still move up my sleeves |
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your room blue dresses pressing leaves |
|
draw me still |
|
draw me still |
|
|
|
three men stood in the clearing |
|
staring at the wild white heron |
|
some glasses of wine and a pen |
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what you take away you can't give back again |
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draw me still |
|
draw me still |
|
|
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broken wings won't bring you home |
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soft white tendons, long hollow bones |
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you hung those feathers from your ceiling |
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so the women you bring home lay down loud |
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mobiles are made for turning |
|
and the women you bring home lay down loud |
