If I didn’t know your name…I would call you the dalliance of a daisy. You dally. You ramble and you roar. I could call you the delicacy of a lingering moment, the residue of a phantom touch. Deh lah kah see.
The delectable dalliance of the soft ground. My heel sinks, my flesh expands and softens.
It’s so quiet here. If I didn’t know your name…I would call you the fleeting wind that whips around the cliffs. Swiftly singing an invisible and violent tune. Chanting sweetly between the sinew. A little higher and I’ll hum.
Sweetly singing tunes of forgotten youth…makes me feel all at once freshly picked and…