hit it with grace and stroke it with fire
"you're burning up, baby"
position for hire!
Required: a touch, a voice, a peace
of mind for rent,
Contempt for the East.
The light that it brings meets no welcome here.
tell me a secret
lend me your ear

your arms are etched
with red and black
they're the story of summer that I look back
on

have i forgotten the sound of the waves
the soft of the cushion
the games that we played

we learned different strategy
and sing different tunes
my only regret is
that i missed the moons

which marked all the hours
of the days that we spent;
we didn't know curses
we didn't pay rent

the days idled wildy
the nights sauntered on,
your arms tell the story
of the summer that's gone

liquid air is every where
the cracks, your lids, my sinews
a floating seed, can't find the
need to ever settle down
if there were snow, I wouldn't know
or care to check the flurry
it's summer and it's winter now;
the sky is in no hurry

what's a minute worth
can you fit who you are into just a few seconds
impress them with sentiments,
choose the right words
to make an impression that you hope is lasting
that buckles their knees
can you sing like a bird
with just the right tempo
not too slow or too rushed
first moments are sacred
play it cool
don't get crushed

once i am real
i won't be ugly
i'll be the wholest peice of joy
that was ever served
at a lover's table


the details aren't pretty and my hair is a mess
the most beautiful confessions
are wrinkled and pressed

the wholest fake person that there ever was
but once i am real
i'll fall and i'll buzz
all over my words and all over the room
a bee busy being
in love with the moon

maybe i could feel you
if i hadn't lost my heart

(not courage, though, i've got that one)

the kind that lets you start

to find the sun on a rainey day before other eyes can see
the heart that gave its life for you
when it ran away from me


i tried to keep it in my throat
to sing you pretty songs
but i swallowed it by accident
my belly's full of wrongs.


maybe it's for the best,
my hoodlum of a heart
i'm sure her space can be replaced with
men and food and art.
that's what my teachers tell me
so it must be (is. what's. so?)

i hope you don't run too fast, baby
and that you don't have far to go.

if I shrank my dreams in half then they might fit inside my body.
my masterplans cover my floor and my fantasies hang out in my rearview window.
if my fingers knew how to be musical then they wouldn't ever lay down to sleep with me.
the belly that hang on this cage ripples with every beat of its lark.
lovers would be knocking down my door if they could hear the song I have in store
for them.