Sodom, south carolina

Some days her shape in the doorway Will speak to me A bird’s wing on the window Sometimes I’ll hear her when she’s sleeping Her fever dream A language on her face I want your flowers like babies want God’s love Or maybe as sure as tomorrow will come Some days, like rain on the doorstep She’ll cover me With grace in all she offers Sometimes I'd like just to ask her What honest words She can’t afford to say, like I want your flowers like babies want God’s love Or maybe as sure as tomorrow will come