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On a Sunday afternoon, in the city, I sat on your porch watching, a panicked papillon dance about (that means butterfly in French, boo) You were running back & forth Smiling, slamming doors & saying it’s hot, but I sweat through & I said, *good ‘cause I like ***** So you ride your bike & keep a garden but you don’t put your money in the bank & I think that’s quite foolish what about inflation my dear? so you love cheese but you don’t drink milk & you won’t ever fall in love because you reckon you’d get too fed-up with their complexities & mazes well me neither I said, but you stole those words from my mouth & I have a hard time believing you when “baby" seems to be your favorite word You’re always saying the things I expect & it’s what I’ve always wanted to hear yet the simplicity is suffocating & I’m somehow just as easy as you & last night, when we were lying in your room, on a bare mattress Under the heat, I wondered if the words pathetic,easy & empty circled your mind too I wondered if you wondered why we were already using terms of endearment, why they came without effort or care, or why we laugh & lock eyes in a week’s time And you said you never sang aloud, but in a moment I heard your voice tracing lyrics & I said that’s really quite sad & you said *it’s only emotions; count yourself among the few What an honor, what a privilege* I thought maybe we’re both lying to ourselves & maybe you feel kinda lonely too only because I’ve said the same before You said *I noticed that you don’t listen to me when I speak* but then again you’re always telling stories and I am but a woman & you are but a man I thought I’d want to touch your feet You reached out to hold my hand But there’ll be distance to maintain & I know better than to get any closer We split asleep, turning our backs towards mirroring walls, space enough I dreamt I lost a lung & when I awoke we were tangled up like ivy on ruins This paradox ****** my mind & I’ve been silent ever since I left you, standing on the sidewalk with cold coffee in your hands *When do you leave, again? Soon, soon enough. Good, good, get excited. The city is melting but I’ll see you soon*
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Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC
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On a Sunday afternoon, in the city, I sat on your porch watching, a panicked papillon dance about (that means butterfly in French, boo) You were running back & forth Smiling, slamming doors & saying it’s hot, but I sweat through & I said, *good ‘cause I like ***** So you ride your bike & keep a garden but you don’t put your money in the bank & I think that’s quite foolish what about inflation my dear? so you love cheese but you don’t drink milk & you won’t ever fall in love because you reckon you’d get too fed-up with their complexities & mazes well me neither I said, but you stole those words from my mouth & I have a hard time believing you when “baby" seems to be your favorite word You’re always saying the things I expect & it’s what I’ve always wanted to hear yet the simplicity is suffocating & I’m somehow just as easy as you & last night, when we were lying in your room, on a bare mattress Under the heat, I wondered if the words pathetic,easy & empty circled your mind too I wondered if you wondered why we were already using terms of endearment, why they came without effort or care, or why we laugh & lock eyes in a week’s time And you said you never sang aloud, but in a moment I heard your voice tracing lyrics & I said that’s really quite sad & you said *it’s only emotions; count yourself among the few What an honor, what a privilege* I thought maybe we’re both lying to ourselves & maybe you feel kinda lonely too only because I’ve said the same before You said *I noticed that you don’t listen to me when I speak* but then again you’re always telling stories and I am but a woman & you are but a man I thought I’d want to touch your feet You reached out to hold my hand But there’ll be distance to maintain & I know better than to get any closer We split asleep, turning our backs towards mirroring walls, space enough I dreamt I lost a lung & when I awoke we were tangled up like ivy on ruins This paradox ****** my mind & I’ve been silent ever since I left you, standing on the sidewalk with cold coffee in your hands *When do you leave, again? Soon, soon enough. Good, good, get excited. The city is melting but I’ll see you soon*
la-jongleuse
Written by
American
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC
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