I Can’t Know

November 20, 2007
I Don’t Know Why She Took Him,
With His Astral Hair of Straw
Yet Earthen Face of Moon.
I Asked Why She Took Him,
‘It Would Be Fun,’ She Fed Me.
She’d End It Soon.
I Believed Her Story Of Him,
His Quivering Sheet
And Overzealous Detection.
So I Feel Clear,
Transparent In Perfection
Two Halves Of A Circle,
Each part of The Whole
But Now Missing That Piece
The Paper Thief Stole.
And There’s Rotting Grapes
Where Once Was Wine
Because He Took,
What I Can’t Want For Mine.

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