Thursday Afternoon

in your arms you are beautiful
And I am the one to be perceived

A broken night or fall of leaves
Some wanderer of the other land

casting stones ripples converge
Your man coming thirst or afternoon

This is hollow, red under nails
Golden day left black in grey

Breath out mustard's coming in
capillaries crush weight reborn

Ever hope wires under insolent
grieving sun shifts listless west

Idunn bring your fruit, brittle
if the speaker, lost of youth

Hers is a wire in midnight
coursing through my air

Shrill that wakes you from sleep
ribbons the bleach fog.