over the gentle swells
the jungle tangle by the road
my guardian angel rustles her wings
as i glide

i know what he looks like
in the blue light of dawn
i've watched the morning sunlight softly stealing across his face
silently, as not to wake him,
gently settling into the curves of cheek and eye,
resting, making bone-shadows and feathering eyelash fringes

over the gentle ridges
the soft golden tangle
with eyes like spirit fingers
i glide