The day has gone; the night sings to me
On the sill I sit, patiently.
Moonface sucks her thumb – up any minute now
Yellow tresses of worrying stresses – holes with empty dancing laces.
Lover dear – my believer, my trust, my lone rock
On quivering lips laced with assuring knock
Voice dipped in tea, voiceless in sea,
Everlasting love, I write to thee.