Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Harvest

A bag of bones and flesh had never been
that expensive
As I can write from the point of view of a dirty body
but polished soul
Self-deprecation had yet to be this massive
but I don't hold no doubts about where to go

The place is certain and unclear to anyone else but me
Bright shining bone structure, jewelry
I want to inherit your eyes
As long as I can grow this flower of delights
in the back of my apple tree

Archeologist of accomplishments
You work your way uphill
I love how you make me feel this young and smart
The sky spitting above our heads, but it doesn't matter
As long as you're still and safe in my heart

My point of view always the cleanest
My bones the treasure I'd like to be
As long as I can hide and harvest us both,
in the back of my apple tree

My silent backyard, strong and confident
for every bystander to see.

No comments: