Member Rara Avis
I need a song,
Something to cover my skin.
Something to fall with the rain.
Something to walk down the road.
Something to tremble the edges.
Something to recall his eyes.
Something to burn up in ribbons.
Have you watched a ribbon burn?
A festive snake curling in,
boneless, smoldering and gray,
the color of the tide?
Smoking on the summer walk,
the sound you stepped from board to board,
the sand between the seams of wood,
the sun sparking the water.
The nature of the waves, you'd asked,
the push and pull, the back and forth?
Formation and disintegration.
Always piling up, he'd said.
No, she said. No, no, no.
That's not the song I need.