January 23, 2013

The florist on the corner sells me a rose. 
I’m paying for the color not the smell.
By any name, what’s sweet comes cheap. 

Today the sun tucks the sand into the waves. 
Tides rise. Light falls. And I will never empty 
my dream catcher into your sleep. 

By any name, what’s sweet comes cheap.
Latch onto your laughter. 
Don’t you know old souls act young?