Monday, 7 November 2011

'And sometimes Scarlett I can’t get out of bed
and all I can do is look at pictures of you and
try so hard to dream again but you and I both
know that dreams are like vials of salt and
that they are always only partly real and you
and I both know your hair is not made of the
shaved bark of sticks and that even if you
pulled me hard against your muddied belly
there would still be those cold elevator laws
and I would still be made of too many poems
and I would still give you this coat that could
never keep you warm when you wear that

No comments:

Post a Comment