lirik lagu arthur prysock - your words
your words are born, not spoken
dimensionally soft vowel words
comparable not to the eye, but to the fingertip
exquisitely curved
as the young that flowers in spring
often have i watched your lips shape words
and your tongue nudge them out, like small birds
not wholly certain of their wings
your sweetest words, are those shaped ovally
like plums
or wild birds’ eggs
and the long bright ribbons you lap
a multitude of hyacinth and blue~bells
when i see words like soft grey catkins
i know they are of love
whatever else my ears register
and because your mouth is like the flesh of a ripe fig
often i take your words and sip
as the brown honey bear slips his red tongue into the nest of sleeping bees to take out honey
and the sweet natural taste, the p~ssy willow, flow of your words is lovelier than their shape
our music
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