Iron bells singing,Gently lilting perfume breeze,Students' deep discourse.I turn a page with the wind,The sun, my love, my warm light.
Misty eyes and thoughts,Eager chills, hot up the spine,Sleepless, anxious nights,I can't control my fool heart.I'm so fucking sick of love.
I sneeze and sniffle,But summer mornings this lovely,Are worth the trouble.
patience is virtue,'tis wholesome and attractive,we lovers waiting.but I! am not a soft doll,to simply wait, contented.
Speaking of monstrous:Nothing is less than worthless,Than nothing at all.
Something about loving you,Makes me hate something about myself,And how I wish this didn't sound likeA teenager's Instagram post.
I'm a little tired,Like sleep sapped away my soul,So back to it, then.
Family gravestones seemSo cool, even in this heatGlistening with dew. Ladle of water,Wash away these worldly sins,Make me clean again. Mountain pilgrimage,A thousand-thousand steps up,Like unending dreams. I take strange comfort,In my slumbering god-ghosts,Dreaming of this land,From their little demimondes,Nestled deep in mossy homes.
I do not think about it,Awake as I am,I am a wake,A vigil over sleep,My vigilant sleeplessness.