To ember to arrow
To the foot of the crust of the pie and the seldom look of rye wrinkled eyes.
My tears have been earned in worth and I wake up w
With them everyday, dry.
Rubbing out the Crusties.
Such a gross thing to insinuate, but I don’t realize i’ve cried myself to sleep peacefully most nights.
Captured in a gaze that doesn’t seem like sleep, transparent of time and always on a schedule when I wake up.
An Aural Chance, and I tuned in at the same time.
Radio Radio to Everything.
How long has it been
Since
I ‘ve sseen you Last.
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