when from this face
half aged on a wrinkled sea
came she, five years unorthodox
from the hanging lime;
her seething eyes see the mangled mind
to dream awake the acres of the crab;
her twisting tongue of epitaph
knots Cancer to the fine lines of the tongue
as chimes four circles deeper than the grave.
who answers first,
thirst of man on a weathers map?
the deep descending pilgrim sucking sin?
when from these eyes
half naked by the dying man
with Aries child too proud to shoulder arms;
who gives so who will borrow?
tomorrow no less closer to the rhyme
that beats grandfather clock a fairy tale;
her broken jaw of sorrow
borrowed time from the hourglass
a stranger to the stinging frost of snow
grows deeper now the landscape raves at dawn;
a craving for the sleep that bolts it\'s doors
it\'s hinges hanging taller than the prayer;
why from these tears do I
as singing man walking taller than the space
be merry as a scarecrow with a stuffed-up voice?.
the mourning comes and goes on freckled cheek;
could I mourn you more the second time you die?
only the second time of asking
can I, as man, be braver than a child;