|
|
|
Furious Rose
"It's not really poetry
But it's pretty" he said
As he raises his voice
She lowers her head
"It makes my heart heavy
You're lonely, I think
Oh Rose you're sad, I suppose"
"Look in her bed and she's bound to be breathing
She's lying there dead, no she's breathing"
Furious Rose with your opiate eyes
Your languorous hum, that tone of surprise
I've heard energy in adversity
Your smile: The soul of witchery
You're not running away
You're not running, are you?
Lyrically longing, she's tearing the words from the page
She's fearfully seething
"Bring me your blessings, a prayer or a new pen
You don't know what I need"
"Look in my bed and I'm bound to be sleeping
I'm lying there dead but I'm breathing"
And I'm barely balancing as it is
And I don't want to drown in my dreams
Bring me wild plums and agrimony
I bet you don't even know what that means"
Furious Rose with your opiate eyes
Your languorous hum, that tone of surprise
I've heard energy in adversity
Your smile: The soul of witchery
You're not running away
You're not running, are you?
Gingerly peering over his shoulder
Removed herself from the room
She's terribly freezing,
She always knows when to go
|
