(to Taytom, sweet Taytom, out there on her own)


It's been a second winter where you are now
Now you let the stardust bite your face
You're as beautiful as always, little white tin goddess
Memories of you are not yet scarred

But your face grew cold and your stare grew loveless
And your hair became a cemetery for falling stars
You fell in a way your angels would never allow
Still we're too distant to fall to your place

It's been a second year for my longing to be sung
Now I let the magic fluids through my womb
I'm as broken as always, little pale fairy of January
Memories of my own still fade

But my face grew bold and my stare grew wintry
And my hair became a bed for unknown shades
I fell to a path that led me to the top rung
Still I look afar for your traces to lead to our common
tomb




© June 2001