by the ashes she was sitting
as the wind the grass was kissing
missing, most of all the kissing
filling every hour minute
she had imagined, much too trusting

the sun in the clouds takes cover
sitting, asks "is my youth over?
never pot or passioned lover
fuck stormy out, fuck peaceful in
never wonder 'how tell monther?'"

it comes to her she always was
sitting as the lonely does
asks not why but accepts does
cause? effect? no, just because

thinking of the water wetting
wind's dead now, the grass still hissing
missing, most of all the feeling
"please please please sit by my side"