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A constant state of pain
Covers up your insanity
What was made was made
But don’t give in to apathy
Deposits of rain soothe the pain
And you complain
That no one cares about you
The way you'd like them to
We are feathers
In the wind
Blowing through time
And space
We have no memory
Of breathing
Only fingers that grasp
At whatever is left of our identity
What remains of the Sun
Before it's gone
Into the underworld
We are all falling stars and captive hearts
And I promise to let you in
Closer than any person
Has ever come before you
As long as you promise
To never tell anyone
These secrets
That we are born from firm
Yet impermanent collisions
So let's get lost
In disorganized apartment buildings
This chaos determines our thirst
When we are no longer wearing shirts
And love is a poem that hurts
Whenever you read it
We keep it clean in bed
And leave our dreams behind us
The sprinklers are on
But the phone is off the hook
You shake with gratitude
And a looseness of character
And I object to being isolated
When you are to be quarantined
Alone with all your necklaces
We made it through
The test of spring
And let love bring
It's own flowers
To our table
How about a moment
To stop and think
And reflect upon our grieving
Love is a vision
Whenever its played
At a certain volume
Love has no edges
Because its only a projection
Do we keep ourselves locked away
As oil prices drop indefinitely
And the stars seem farther
From our eyes than ever
How are we coping in a quarantine
Or is this tyranny really for our safety
Upon our heads a plague
Or is it a pox of reason
I love the rhythm
Of watching you breathe
Maybe love is a machine
In need of a good oiling
We are spoiled and splayed out
Still there is no doubt
That whenever we really need to
We can’t seem to feel
Any of these feelings too deeply
SHE
She who dives in deep
Has no need for others to speak
She bleeds for those in need
And gives them everything they seek
Our love is a pocket-watch
That’s been wound for thirty years
And i know I’m bound to hear you
Speaking through a paper towel
Maybe love really has no relatives
But now really isn't the time
To test such a lonely theory
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