Lights on the water like the dead looking at me.
I am nothing compared to all these lives from afar.
Are these really the clouds I write poems about?
Crumpled earth. Lots of crumpled earth.
But before them, cotton.
Lights on the water like the dead looking at me.
I am nothing compared to all these lives from afar.
Are these really the clouds I write poems about?
Crumpled earth. Lots of crumpled earth.
But before them, cotton.