I don't really miss you
And the times that I kissed you
Or how good it felt to have you in my arms

If you don't believe me
You can come over and see me
I don't see how that could do any harm

Would you mind wearing that red dress
The one that I like best
Give me a call, I'm here all the time

I could make dinner if you like
And we could discuss it all night
Then you will clearly see that I'm not lying

When I say I don't miss you
And the times that I kissed you
Or how good it felt to have you in my arms

And if you still don't believe me
I'll let you kiss me then you'll see
After all what could be the harm

When you come home
bring forth a garden, a storm
all the colors of you
a flower petaled rain befalls me
a soaking, sweeping view
from mountains you come
calmly with rain
deep from earth's core
sweet with petrichor
encircling softly warm
attracts me magnetically
stupefies me uncontrollably
though I know the killing hour
will come crushing, empty and forlorn.

He passed a preacher in hazy,
Misty, London streets.
Whispering sermons
From cracked shoeless feet.
None would stoop to
Cast a passing ear,
To the words of a man
With nothing left to fear.

He told tales of love,
Tempered by the light of reality.
Love of money,
Love of greed
And all the objects of fiction
We imagine that we need.

"To each let it be known!"

"None of your possesions are yours to own!"

"Leased out for the duration of your time!"

"From house to car and from the body to the mind!"

The passers by barely noticed the guy
Who spoke from the heart
With the words of the wise.
The wisest words they would hear for weeks
Lost among the
Hazy, misty, London streets.