I will be born again
in the white gold sun.
I will eat the
ripest fruit
of the tallest tree;
his juice will run
down my chin
to my breast.
I will clear
the dust
of your wake.
– Sheila c.
I will be born again
in the white gold sun.
I will eat the
ripest fruit
of the tallest tree;
his juice will run
down my chin
to my breast.
I will clear
the dust
of your wake.
– Sheila c.