Hogwash. Crude. Zeneszám

Brown eyes in the mud
carefully pour their water out
brown eyes in the mud
onto the ground in the rutted cracks

brown eyes watch me and speak
show me how she does that trick
brown eyes with their mights
carry me in the usual fights

"what does that mean?"
she asks and grins
so I put my lips on her rivers
"that's what it means"
she insists:"what does that mean?"
her huge eyes brim
so after much doubt I've come to realize:

this clean skin burns
green spring is the source
my crude rhyme is a crime
could it be more sublime?

shadows shuffle backwards
she mumbles four words
" I love the sun "