Left for you

None of that irony indecision If you got me, witchcraft woman, if you let me Call it love then what will you with me? If magic is its other name Do these moments matter anyway unless everthing is you? Unless these moments mean as much As this body does Unless the light be turned away from forever in a day. No, none of that pretending I’m alive on borrowed time time to go I am human too and call this life my own I would as well surrender if it’s inescapable. Do you remember? Am I capable?

17 January 1974