Dance toward me, please, as
if you were a star
with light-years piled
on top of your hair,
smiling,
and I will dance toward you
as if I were darkness
with bats piled like a hat
on top of my head.
Posted Thu at 8:35pmRichard Brautigan, A Mid-February Sky Dance (via therabbithearted)
(Source: sleepinginthesnow, via lavendertree)
