I Was Only Sitting Here In My

For I Could Not Read Or Speak And On The Long Nights I Could Not Turn The Moon Off Or Count The Lights Of Cars Across The Ceiling.

Yet Love Enters My Blood Like An I.v., Dripping In Its Little White Moments.

Put Your Ear Down Close To Your Soul And Listen Hard.

I Would Like A Simple Life / Yet All Night I Am Laying / Poems Away In A Long Box.

I Imitatea Memory Of Beliefthat I Do Not Own.