Some mornings came,
Unvisited by old age,
Deep as tenderness.
Then, the world returned.
My pain wrapped again
The security of not feeling, of not thinking,
Tight around itself.
Some mornings came,
Unvisited by old age,
Deep as tenderness.
Then, the world returned.
My pain wrapped again
The security of not feeling, of not thinking,
Tight around itself.