ladies lay down in the grass
they plant the questions they will ask the moon
cold dew wets the thighs
under darkened skies
dead leaves perfume
seasons stretch our minds collide
my empty hands try to hide your ghost
hot blood rules these veins
your weathered eyes have stained
my heart the most
acid days will bring the quake
you left me blessed and in your wake the thought
that souls are gifts of gold
took hold I am your old
forget me not
