you were haunting, elusive, bitter, sweet
your hair was long, dark, lost, lonely
you sang the scars of the streets
And when I die...
New York tendaberry…
and the past is a blue note
I wanted to embrace you
as I drowned in your lovely
soulful primal songs
Spring whispered in her ear…
upstairs by a China lamp
La la la la la la
you welcomed...
Continue reading...