The Best Kind of Melancholy

For what have I known

If not the truth

The ways of the sun and moon

The secrets that tie

My hands to you

With silk from my own cocoon

Ache Without Blow

For once

I beg

If I am to fall

Let me be the snow

Silent, slow

Linger, I hurt

Like bare feet

In hot sand

Burn with a passion

In desolate fashion