To Sleep Naked With the Wolves
Those hazel eyes that pull back with the tide
And come alive when submerged
She had a witch’s way about her
So spellbinding and lost
with her jeans of the week
dingy and dilapidated
that spoke of wild nights
being desired, and left desiring
They fit so well with
Her cross to bear
her beautiful brown hair
And the uninvited eyes it’d bring
Lonesome was all she ever wanted
On a sandy bluff somewhere
Leaning into the wind
In the arms of love’s memory
It’s so much clearer when it’s gone
To sing when no one’s listening
To sleep naked with the wolves
These are the things she needs
Copyright © Andy Ellsworth | Year Posted 2013
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