are we to speak
first day of the week
stumbling words at the park
beauty blue eyes
my order of fries
and long island kindness and wine
beloved of John
I get it all wrong
I read you for some kind of poem
covered in lines
the fossils I find
have they no life of their own
so can we pretend sweetly
before the mystery ends
I am a man with a heart that offends
with its lonely and greedy demands
there's only a shadow of me
in a matter of speaking I'm dead
such a waste
your beautiful face
stumbling carpet arrise
go follow your gem
your white feathered friend
icharus point to the sun
if history speaks
of two baby teeth
and painting the hills blue and red
they said beware
lord hear my prayer
I've wasted my throws on your head
so can we be friends
sweetly before the mystery ends
I love you more than the world can
contain in its lonely and ramshackle head
there's only a shadow of me
in a matter of speaking I'm dead
I'm holding my breath
my tongue on your chest
what can be said of my heart
if history speaks
the kiss on my cheek
where there remains but a mark
beloved my John
so I'll carry on
counting my cards down to one
and when I am dead
come visit my bed
my fossil is bright in the sun
so can we contend
peacefully before my history ends
jesus I need you be near me
come shield me from fossils that follow my head
there's only a shadow of me
in a matter of speaking I'm dead