Seasons And Reasons

vi.

future forth of cruel court
saving lives on our sinking boat.
sending sore next morning, mourn
disruption of dusk next day was born
hun, where sweets are made is where
we peel heartaches and pour hates;
you once told me, "we're matching mates"
our dazzling daisy yesternight's the drying date.

bluish eyes, the ice of eyes—and seeping screw
love, I'm not capable of forgetting you...
I then carelessly fixed your wings free
but, hun, you were loved and still are loved by me.

— the drying daisies