Who knows how late it will be when I end this torrent of the lost, broken I can still see the expanding circle of dancers bobbing and curtsying on the first day of summer, longest day for you, beloved miracle, they have all been miracles slipped through my fingers as the recollection of the picture I gave away becomes distant
Fierce. Apocalyptic fierce.
Hard to pin down–lion or dragon?
Always was just
A way to remind me of