Infiltration

A sweet disorder in the dress Kindless in clothes a wantonness A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction An erring lace which here and there Enthralls the crimson stomacher I'm crying here Would you ever come with me Never let me infiltrate what I call free And not expecting pardon Hardened in heard anew Thunder and rain with you And grateful too My reality for you Could be quenched simply by returning To those shores where I might hear your voice My reality for you Could be quenched simply by returning To those shores where I might hear your voice In a cantilena of blue A sweet disorder in the dress Kindless in clothes a wantonness A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction