The sky is wrist red.
Who is below is new.
No bone or as god’s puppy
but now dreams ride me
like a daughter.
I am on a train under Stonehenge.
Song phones and heaven knows
on what is riding me.
He is
but I look on him as a man
when he sleeps.
The lad in green
won’t you come and be my queen?
I am a little girl
I have earned this, it’s just
we only lost him that morning
so green on that red.
Hello my trees