in the book of right on, she was right on

bring these things back
in small moments or even not at all
but to just pretend they once were
give me a dream that fall somewhere between
the summers of august
and the winters of july

give me false hope
give me radiant eyelines
skied across the night

break the repetition of neverending

signils has been quoth before!

leave these hollow pastoral dreams away
I have no need for them
far far(l l l)in a distant sea floating to find
chilly north winds and ice

bring back gravity and youth
promises and myopic sitting somewhere on division st.
like it should be

I need the easy-to stomach bounce
the endless nightless days

hit and fall
hit and fail
hit and then

sorrow

I continue to walk these same streets

it has been an endless 5 years