​the railway Patricia Taxxon

Oh won’t you tell me a story tonight?
It seems your words will never run dry
I can’t understand where it’s all coming from
But it’s coming on… again

Oh won’t you tell me what’s on your mind?
As in, the images you’ve writ
I can’t begin to parse what I’m feeling here
But I might join in

Descriptions of our love
Descriptions of your body
Running through my head
I’m running when you call me your girl

Terrifying gold
The forest where I saw you
Daughter of the wolf
In seconds I would call you… dad

When the wolf tells stories to me, I’m always sure to volunteer my paw
He taught me patiently, to hold his old quill, and I caught on
Laughter, in the evеning, passion at dawn, like writing songs
Belief, bеyond

I can’t ever begin to know, or convey the bliss of our poetry, our words unread
The passages a cradle set, the stanzas broad walls, a house we bled
Your shimmer stains my desert floor, I follow your breath, Star of Bethlehem
I’m a child again