About how the day started and about a cry

From the top of the flight and the wind in the mountain
above the branches of your trees
between the river and the creek,
there, where our place is,
please,
don't let go of my hand while we're there.


I'm listening to diamonds sounding
in the sawdust in the garden
in front of the house. Their glitter.
I'm running away
into the tunnel below the pond
before it starts to rain
'cause I love it's water
and him in it.
We're singing together
about how the day started
and about a cry.
And the accord of his guitar
reminds me of our days
when he saved me
from solitude and underfeeding of love.


And now, Taylor,

your water is running away, escaping
as the echo of the string
that we loved.

Please,
don't built the dams
on the creek we were bathing in
just because you are afraid of inundation.
Because my sprout will not survive without the water.
Yours.
And you will not survive without the response.
Mine,
that is sounding
from the top of the flight and the wind in the mountain
above the branches of your trees
between the river and the creek,
there, where our place is,
please,
don't let go of my hand
while we're
there.

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