…it was under you i walked and you whispered what i wanted, all 800 years of you weighed down by the weight of you.
when i saw you, my storybook was narrow, in bud, crosshatched with tiny scales, a lot like you were, once. by now you’ve seen a thousand popes and other treacheries, a billion ideas have floated under your bough and you still heard my want clearer than i, as though i’d told you because you’d asked…

  1. iforitaly posted this