Rosśa Crean

Lyrics

perfidia

i write of the sky and inquire of those who share it with me
how they would describe it,
if pressed.
no one seems to mind responding, though in
the tone usually reserved for children who must soon
be sent to bed.
"it is too much, it is a gift, it is beautiful and
full of nothing."
i write of the heart and ask no one
who has known mine
how they would describe it -
my theory being: such mutability and capacity
means little
when compared to something like the sky.