What comes down, what comes down
To the town, to the town.
She rode horses, their backs unguarded.
She drove fires, her eyes, they sputtered.
She connected back to song,
Back to Heaven’s fields, so long.
I grew grief from velvet thorns,
Hardened in my palms so torn
By the silk of her breathless form
That takes to a world of tears, forlorn.
Weathered by a beaten drum,
Hardened by a worried thumb
Stuck up to the world’s surround
A vow that drove its defeat so down.
Love loses by the cure of it,
For its sickness is the world of it.
I am a man who cannot stand
When hardship grows on ivory sand.
When messages are long in the dirt,
That is when I have become this hurt.
Her breasts, round,
Her cheeks, down.
Her eyes, wilted heavy,
Her nest, no breaths many.
I leave this shelter to count a newness
That could grow from nothingness.