Your red red lips, like the pulse of your power

Drawing me into the sleeping room

Rain and flowers, leaves and green

Peering in through the window 

Where I can be seen

 

 

And a peace oriental slips onto my hearth

The softness of breathing, the whisper of calm

The silence of ages and the low tide of tyres

Describing my day as an absence of fire

 

My hunger is sleeping, my sustenance too

I wait for passings of green 

And the coming of blue

And I almost can reach you

From this swamp where I am

Trying hard to find reasons and hoping to plan

 

And a peace oriental slips onto my hearth

The softness of breathing, the whisper of calm

The silence of ages and the low tide of tyres

Describing my day as an absence of fire

 

The phone slipped out of my hand

As I gazed into the void

And drifted into a world

Where I’ll judge no more