Dear David,
How a frame, wiltheres, it stains the pedestal, in a rush, with options, yet prepared in advance, how a table empties, the room, the shielded coffin, I too, line with requests, and rests, with tips, the shielded eyes, that carry coffins, and backs with tests?
How, I too, the coffin, I line, my request, yet a water, can I too, share, the warmth, a frown, or a thank you, a table abandoned, in a town, that is toned, with an angel, silence, with a tear, in loneliness, standing aloof, to hear, and a room, with two, in eternity, how a drill, two, I share one two, and empty eyes, can you hear, the golden girl, the scarf wrapped softly permission lend, yet altered, invitation, I could never mend?
~