I long to think not at all
and let my eyes go graze like cows
upon the golden days.
My ears take in the babiest of sound
without conceiving it at all.
I hear you in the world anywhere.
all memory so much at rest,
my fingers need not move to touch
all of you at once at last.
I brush your hair so idly in my mind
and smell it, soft and clean.
My nose is quite at home with you.
All touches end where you begin
and only then they otherend in me.
I need to think about just you or nothing
into which you come without my hand.
I have no choice
and nothing will not come.
I am sick from thinking you will never be
to me alone again.
I would not think of you at all
but there is only one of that.
I need not to think of you,
just lie and let you think of me asleep
and you the dream and dreamer
My dreams of you are not like that,
My love, they never end.
Where you come to me in them
you always bring a friend.
503 ®Copyright 1973 Jack Scott. All rights reserved.