AT dusk just when
the light is full
i feel a game:
there is a man,
i worry: somehwere
out there and windmills
so silent my Clock
dimly cries when i’m
not ‘there’ and ever night
i stand fully stripped
of all my own mind — i’ll
never sleep and The Wind sings
go to sleep lovely and since
is never i should completely weep
but i know ‘out there’
there’s a flower (MY OWN
HEART) at midsummer’s keen
beyond and at dust just
when the light is full i
feel a game, there is a man
i worry ||

:: 07-11-2015 ::

so like a gentle walk and I don’t know how
i can tell you — won’t ever play with you
and like my mama told me
‘keep precious hearts closely to your soul’
i love you but don’t know you
and can’t believe how people say
‘never let your hair down’
it’s a sad fact like broken hearts
and when I’m out i see you walking
and i think you see me — could it be
you’re playing a game — that’s the way
wars are lost;  especially between hearts
when we are so afraid to be what we are
oh yeah, oh so terribly sad
to feel the tears upon my cheek i hate me
i let my hair down but never knew a heart
that burst fire just for me
should i go alone?  Into the deepest night?
why don’t you ask me?  Could it be you found
another game to play?  Oh!  Maybe that’s the way
wars are lost.  especially between hearts
when we are so afraid to be what we are.
Oh, yes.  Oh la la la…I say with my heart.

:: —— ::