I toss the phrasing in my mind As I try telling you that I have not Told you half or more of the things I wish I had. Love of the lowest kind is politics I was too busy saying things to bind you Using food to anchor you home. I kept my heart far away from my sleeve To keep at bay that sense of complacency That could lead to you taking me lightly. In my fear and to relieve it, I took you And this beautiful something we had To this cold brick box without windows Where we bang and break each other In dread, in uncertainty, in disquiet. Neither me nor you is robust enough To allow the other soar into the skies. We could have been these kites, you know Rooted but flying apart of course, together Happy and smiling when around each other Instead of assuming a sordid, pious, unfeeling Stance from the third aspect formed By two putrid ghosts of us. Let us try the skies now, shall we?
Posted on: Tue, 23 Jul 2013 08:43:23 +0000
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