When the sun sets

Who is it that ranges, occasionally,
The quiet distances of my mind
Reminding me of songs I'd rather forget,
Of a yellow rose that fell me
Of that first year of deceit -
Yours and mine?

Who is it that sweetly stabs
My eyelids awake
So that I walk-wake-live-die
Till I see a skewed sunrise
And dyslexically construe
Today for tomorrow or 
Yesterday for another life?


- Me