It was raining

I saw six cents

Sitting atop a post

Wondered, who left this here for me?

Put my hand on them, whisked away the water

And left them where they lay

Let’s do something stupid, but just once or twice
If you make the memory then I’ll pay the price
Like free falling from bridges through the crisp air
Like shadows and mirrors I’ll always be there.

Let’s do something stupid, but just once or twice
If you take the pleasure I’ll take the vice
Like word stalling in obscure areas under soft lights
Like tossing and turning, big spoon, little spoon at night

Let’s do something stupid, but just once or twice
If we break things together, if we roll the dice
When things go bad you know there is a stain
But the things that we’ve done will be worth the pain

Let’s do something stupid, but just once or twice
Because we wake and both know the devil makes thrice
Let’s run amok, let’s head-bang, let’s party
Let’s make a night to ourselves before things get ******

Let’s do something stupid, but just once or twice
Let’s do anything, anywhere, let’s throw in some spice
Let’s be foolish and daring and careless and free
Whatever we do is all right with me
Do everything everywhere, let it be loud
But let’s do it together, let’s do it right now.

Most often I slip into dreaming a reality
Surrounded with absurdity
And abstract absolution and functionality.
A world filmed in silence,
Where the black and white future reminiscence
Of untold horrific and haunting hand holdings
Are my only bane.
Where I can look into a pair of gleaming eyes
And find with every tic a surprise
That makes my unsettled heart arise
Without any sort of promiscuity or lustful
Over glazing on the perfect soufflé
And then with not even a hug given as a subtle warning
No forerunner to an upcoming silence and mourning.
Morning. Open eyes and wide lids. And forming
In the crevice of the mass, a single droplet
That rains readily into a queer laughter
As satisfaction slyly slips back into the fade

It’s a dream to keep the silence close
With those that, to me, mean the most
Looking longingly and knowingly with only tones
Of bare skin and cloth separating the souls,
The heart, and the passion

Once again, it’s the end
And it comes to an end
And the moments die
And you wake up
To an apocalyptic goodbye