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waiting for sun in the morning, my eyes on the ceiling,a fire of birds brilliantly burns.and the body knows before I know.and didn't we? didn't we pretend?oh you and your christ kite caterwauling in the airoh, coarse and feraland even so you let me go.I couldn't charm my way back to you.oh, late lady nightoh, lake, lake at nightoh slouched ghosts of lightand your storm shoulders bright in the bloomed lillac boomsI pray for peace where the lampare cinders burned the treesstill I can half-see you. I can half-see youin yard in the rain in your wellington bootswhere we danced like we were on firelike the birds we spoke with firewe danced like we were all on fire... From Letras Mania