“SWEET”

the voice of your eyes is nothing to the rain
nothing, not even the rain has such small hands
you saw the spirits in raindrops
you see them free

there’s rain running down your skin
there’s pain cut into your skin
the smiles of flesh slowly screamed
the horror of the deed slowly dreamed

I want you now
come with me on my waterfront
anything is possible
I could touch you if I wanted
you’re not as sweet as your eyes
make me think
but I like your taste and your riches
and I’d like to drink out of your heavens
of course I want to touch you

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© copyright Mark Reed, 1991-2002 except where indicated