04-23-2022, 03:42 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-23-2022, 03:48 AM by RiverNotch.)
Maybe tomorrow my throat
won't be so dry, my heart
won't be so vacant, my loins
won't be so ardent. I'm sure tomorrow
I won't be a desert: she'll be a gazelle
prancing in the grass
growing on my loins, lapping up drink
from the life-giving spring
that bursts in my heart, and bathing
in the rain of praises pouring
from my throat. Tomorrow, she and I
will host a chosen nation.
won't be so dry, my heart
won't be so vacant, my loins
won't be so ardent. I'm sure tomorrow
I won't be a desert: she'll be a gazelle
prancing in the grass
growing on my loins, lapping up drink
from the life-giving spring
that bursts in my heart, and bathing
in the rain of praises pouring
from my throat. Tomorrow, she and I
will host a chosen nation.