Very well.
I hang my head upon a hat stand;
I have no use for it
Since I saw you.
It was late in the evening,
Some quiet scene on a tranquil lake.
A myth, a madness,
A boat smashing upon the rocks.
Time ebbed and flowed,
As did I
Into your writhing embrace;
I was lost.
Then a feeling
Of colors, vivid and red;
Jehovah creating the world,
And I enraptured in it.
Tell me you were lost,
Your incessant mind ceasing,
Your silence wrapped in mine,
Louder than all the bombs in the world.
The sun rises;
Its light burns my eyes.
Won't you be the pretty little cloud
That passes overhead?
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