Blind God

A voice followed me
Which foot do I put down first?

I was back in Los Angeles
Wrapped in a woman's wild colors
Resulting in a dark bird's love call
That shattered by daylight

Move the branch from my face
Thanks to the vague white flowers
that point to the gleaming metal of the city

The hills grow wearly and lean a little with the heat
As I continue to play this game for a blind god

As I watch a monarch
I know that something stands among the trees

Two people touch twice a month
The cruelist irony

As Pablo says
Loving is so short, forgetting is so long