CREAM IN THAT.

I will bury my sins under the earth’s mouth before we meet again. My shoes remind me of your cautious eyes and metal heart. When we first met, under the apple tree, you gave me a pocket full of teeth. From the warriors of the Earth, off of the forest floor. Made with joyous remarks and handshakes for the men, the train is gone. Like the November rain: cold, damp and sad. When love is looking for a heart to sleep in, but you are too tired to even lift an eyelid. Sun shadows dance on my wall, while I fall asleep to the cloud’s tears lightly touching my windowsill.