Posted on February 26, 2010 - by Rasham

ChicO

Chico

Too many words

I only need a few;

modesty is a dress

I wear

on the night of

this bruised moon

Silence I wear

like the weight in my eyes

Drag the color brown;

drag it into this bruised night

My mind says to end

but with words I can pretend

that forever is fancy

and fortune is free

and love is the last mile

crossing

the distant breeze

So with fewer words

and fewer words still,

say back to me

once more, my rosy thrill

You brought me here

I am strong for it I fear;

but ride further with you still?

(The outline of this bruised moon

is where old blood rests upon window sills)

Too many words

I only need a few

I’ll say only ‘yes’

Simply and

before old blood

demands regress

So with fewer words

and fewer words until

I relax into the morning;

it asks to be still