You're a patch of flowers
growing wild deep inside me
Something in your eye
mimes a marble or a diamond
Hidden underneath
like a lost enchanted city
I don't sing of what I've left
but of things that I still carry
I'm not in the room
as my lost mind gently wanders
Thinking of my life
and the days spent as a child
I listened to cassettes
on the swing set in the backyard
Learning how to sing
by the garden and the washline
Such a lovely day
and I'm writing just to tell you
I only slipped in drowned
in the bathtub of the world
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