the buildings do look beautiful
set against the sky falling,
the sun sinking,
sweet, hot colors taking over,
and might I add,
as I'm watching you watch the sun set over the city sky-line,
your eyes seem to shine a lovely shade of green,
something in the way of a kiwi-tangerine.
-but imagine if the sky was the ocean,
and those clouds were waves,
and the sky scrapers were the tall, thin jetties on which they broke apart,
rolling soft against all the big smooth windows,
polishing the sea-sky glass, slowly wearing them away.
I can hear your breath smiling,
your toes tapping,
your bubbly finger-tips touching
the edge of your pocket's lining, fishing around for no reason at all.
pick me up and put me in your pony-tail,
like one of those little butterfly clips you had when you were a girl.
push me away to make room for your power politics
put me back just to touch my hand,
I'll hold your hand and listen to you talk about your plant-life politics,
best friend remix,
ditch some of those shallow chicks,
or maybe just the bitch,
reconnect with a few old familiars,
a few old dragonflies waiting on some leftover lily-pads,
a few more chances to be real.
and didn't you know?
you don't just download the radio hits.
go out and buy the whole album, or all the albums,
and listen to them when you're alone,
then again, with a friend.
we're as different as black and white,
I could be day,
and you could be some other time.
but that's okay.
I'll let you be the sunshine.
I'll let you be a field of flowers,
a warm, breezy afternoon.
I'll let you be the best time,
better than any other time,
better than anything that's me.
and as you turn around again to face me,
I watch your beauty break apart
like a dandelion plucked from the earth,
and thrust into an exhaled breath,
your silly little seedling dancers sent tumbling out into the wide-open world.
and as you turn to go,
I reach out to catch one of those windswept little wonders,
I catch it.
and keep it.
I put it in my pocket,
all and only for me.