you go on;
i'll just sit and play
my guitar.
for just a little while
i'd like to hold her,
feel her weight on my knee;
feel her press my hip in urgency.
i rarely understand what it is to make logic so beautiful.
i rarely understand what she evokes:
the gentle touch from my worn fingertips,
my voice wavering with purity.
yet somehow i feel her like a friend
in every instance of my life,
important or sublime.
and if it were raining,
if the sun were rising on this shore,
i could do no better but
to sit here
with
he(you)r

06/19/2002

Posted on 06/19/2002
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