on end of any open field alight tell me the shadows standing still miss me just say that you will a month in passing never noticed you a month of passing time in solitude while at the base of yet another day, it's ok another month is standing in the way like a needle stick your stem the skin of mother earth to prick it bleeds the blood of second thought indeed, regret slows the clot a silver start, a solitary dime could take apart, disarm this with a minute of your time, my friend