Where have you gone?
Edited in this line of text.
An unsent love letter to
Things as they should have been.
I’d prefer you here my friend.
I may not hold you like I used to,
May not lose myself in your thrusts.
But I’d rather you were here.
I don’t hold the thorns you said
In my side anymore.
Paint my face in your lies,
Fill my lungs with smoke,
Or walk the soft green grass
In stiff leather shoes.
Bare foot the green has become my soul.
A song to Papatuanuku,
A gentle caress
Of all that is true.
The truth that has no words.