for andrew and matthew shepard
 
 the riots broke out and took another one of my children;
ans Sister Strength is gone beneath the cries of the frail forest of  which we retreat.
rest my perfect child.
go to bed with the daisys and grand mother quilts.
the priests are finally outspoken and defeated.
and mother bears the perfect shade of azure now.
you were the only angel left; and now my frame is without serenity.
And the Angel illustrated in my painting elapsed and meek, and you are sand below the current.
the piano sings your wonderful stiched song.
your my little sweet orchid when it rains.
go to bed, past the mean apple tree and forgotten snow.......