Such simple pleasures I prefer
Than reckless love and desire.
The sound of bird’s call is moving
But It cannot break you’re heart.
I prefer the simple feel of things
Rather than the feel of a lover’s skin,
A rabbit’s fur is soft and pleasing,
But it cannot leave you drained at its absence.
Such simple words I prefer,
Than the words of another’s longing lips,
Impersonal words may be cold, and temperate,
But never as cold as the smoke blown cold death of a fire.
