Hurley-burly

I am the sacred absent
I am a chill down your spine
I vow trust, and love,
But torrents, tears, are mine

To give away and reset
to fall away and beget
to miss out on evenings yet
bend toil all night in regret

long suffer'g spider weaves her net
works at night, her I should forget
that moment when I was present, yet
victim in rising water, with tetra ...
[... glowing all around me]

I would drown that night
If I did not love you
shed instead my shaking ...
Shakiness that you always hate

I sent a message late
and a text too early
and the morning was met
with quiet hurley-burly


Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell