hands tied
(off like a prom dress)

sun is dying
in the west
houses of white
now turn red
uprise the moon
in shakey stead
layway
twilight
on barefoot moss

with my hands tied
my thoughts run astray
drifting out and into

flutter by
the moth strewn night
seeking sight
without a guide
step sure step
to be untrue
step sure step
onward to you

with my hands tied
my thoughts run away
drifting out and into
my blue mind