Seamstress

Seamstress, kindest of  bedlams. 

You use beauty as your needle, 

and youth as your thread. 

Your dresses are dreams 

and your jackets are dread.

Morning star buttons,

And lavender loops. 

Swan feather corsets

and whale bone hoops. 

Indigo velvets, 

sewn up with stars, 

Beetle bug buttons,

Kept  in glass jars. 

Your hands hold the love,

And you fingers the grace,

Pulling down sky with your needle,

And the earth up to face. 

atrophy

the muscles of the intellectuals 

are atrophying, 

the roots of the tree

are deteriorating, 

the salt in the ocean

is multiplying, 

and that sour taste in my mouth

is is curdling.

nobody's running, 

nobody's living.

nobody's thinking,

atrophic properties

take to the mind

like candy. 

SunWashed

looking into those bright eyes,

its like the first day of my life. 

looking at the sun washed sky,

is a way of finding my light,

and the same sun shines all night

yours was the first face that i saw,

i think i was blind before i met you. 

so if you want to be with me...

with these things there's no way of telling,

we'll just have to wait and see. 

this is the first day of my life,

the first day that i'm with you. 

and every day is the first when 

the sun washed sky is overhead. 

remember the time i drove all night?

just to see you in the morning?

and i told you all these things had changed,

and it was the first day of my life.

under your sun washed sky.