Silver Apples Dust
Dust, this day is hash...
A broken bottle's inside
Strewn with rinds of love
And shattered shells of soul.
Dust of other days...
Crumpled hours of devotion
Washed down gutter streams
To sink within the tide.
Dust of love squeezed dry...
Hateful fingers strangled joy
Self-made love as bare as bone
Dropped down to dusty morning.
