I seem to write and not compose,
These songs lips and bodies are so fond of,
Things ears listen to and without squinting...
The heart can hear.
But I write and not compose,
So that everything becomes more difficult,
To understand.
And the ink drys but never stains the brain,
With what I want to say...
Or a point I wanted to get across.
It's a price to say,
Everything.
When holding back,
Will make them belt out...
Or hold up the little flames and rise together.
Yet, here I am writing and not composing.
You can not dance to this.
This is not a community.
Only singular thought escapes a scene,
To follow a thread,
Down to the seam,
To reach the hem.
But I still just write, not compose

When I do finally find myself...
And the one thing that makes my heart beat faster than you..
Can I call you home?
And pack all that I've learned in crates, and stack all my new found knowledge like books on our shelves...
And hang all that I love on our walls?

When I do finally find myself...
Not wondering why I had to walk this path alone...
Can you take my hand?
And promise me every forked path from here on on out won't keep me seperated...
From the only destination I now want to reach?

When I do finally find myself...
Driving on my own to where I need to be...
Can I turn around and come back to you?
And spread my journey out upon your desk in photographs and stories...
And look into your shining eyes like a mirror, reflecting me complete?

Sound can only stretch so far,
And you can only lie awake for so long,
Before you are revealed,
Completely vulnerable.

You, your sheets, and the threads that make them
hold steady eyes upon their shadows.

But in the dark... what can they see?

This distance,
Your face on a screen,
Blinking occasionally reality,
Flickers, shatters lucid dreams...
               of you close come nightly,
               come close to me tonight.
Your voice,
Solid stern oak, shaking leaves,
Calls to me on broken lines,
Sings to me on clouds in dreams...
               of you close come nightly,
               come close to me tonight.
Bed empty,
With single, lonely pillow sees,
No resting, tranquil head,
Next to mine to make peace dreams...
               of you close come nightly,
               come close to me tonight.

I have scarlet cheeks and the hottest hands
Once your firm lips press upon translucent skin
A dizzying reality, a crashing universe
That compel my blood and thoughts to race, all for you
My heart beats and beats

These forrested roads pass as streaks of rust and green, magnificent
Only one turns to reach a destination
The rest we take lost in hope of a journey
With dripping ice cream and melting passengers
You drive and drive

I feel tiny icey shatters through me
With each touch from strong hands callous from art
And each bead of sweat or water is a tear
Shed for the beauty of our braided bodies
Entwined, shooting impulses electric
We love and last