(no subject)
Sometimes, I can hear you,
More than hear you cry.
Still near enough to be just out of my reach.
Sometimes, these days,
these morning hours,
I create a list of things.
Sometimes the lists
contain secrets about
about getting lost once
this summer
looking for you
More than hear you cry.
Still near enough to be just out of my reach.
Sometimes, these days,
these morning hours,
I create a list of things.
Sometimes the lists
contain secrets about
about getting lost once
this summer
looking for you