Moments — Red House Painters

gently in these ragged folds curled up and warm like easter's child a breath so faint, angelic weight

i can't deny that i drift sometimes even in these loving moments to summery fields i call my own where i can lie and in them feel at one with my death with limbs outstretched

i can't deny that i'm weak sometimes even in my strongest moments and the way you cry at me i don't know why you stay