I am on fire
really. truly.
actually burning alive
"I don't see any anger, any tears..."
She's critical like a Scientist
superstitious like an angel
she laughs
my porch is roaring
after all, it is, a shuttle
wrapped in by fine carpentry
open viewing slats
left, right, and straight ahead
she leans in just close enough to touch
I wish she would grab on to me
trust me, let me lead
rain drags the edges
trickles into the sound
"I sometimes get up on this roof
and look up"
its her move now...
"people, they talk about weather...but they never talk about the sky"
she was right
she was beautiful
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