scrapsong

I saw you hang yourself upon an end of a quote

some small fate that your books fall by my feet

and I'm owed to one bank, to lend you both these hands

and that smile before we spoke, almost always whispered:

I swore that the stars no longer rule.

you hold my world here, have seen you writing yours

could I tell, your greatest fear is that all of love is only borrowed

carved between stone and the length of sorrow

the dreamers stand casting weight to move the water

or not sure that I would follow, mistaken for the restless

secrets you won't know:

slow bird, brilliant suns, my last light of fear of none.

—Ian William L.