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By Jane Rain Date: 2004 Nov 02 Comment on this Work [[2004.11.02.02.05.29590]] |
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You're my sin, you're my saint You're simply just everything to me You're my peace, you're my taint You're serendipity I miss you by week by week and by some weeks in loathe But our time when spent together is against slow, slow unknown You pounce between the edges of this man's artery Rejuvenating defines your subsequent role If only I could count you some weathered poem I'd start to repay a gift that gives undone Yet weathered may as well be what I've become |