These is infinity outside my window.
I can see it, but it cannot see me.
I've dreamed of it, but it cannot dream. So,
I'll drive it to the waveless, rolling sea.
It will swallow the horizon. It needs
to be on something; a line of sky
will do. It will ask on bended knees
to change the color of the clouds going by.
Now lost and held and bound by time, it waits;
fully strung out on a clock that does not
strike, and a headache from a golden gate
he hallucinated or else forgot.
That's where I will hold him. Together
laughing, he is no longer forever.
Apr 17, 2011
Apr 17, 2011 at 1:49 PM UTC
These is infinity outside my window.
I can see it, but it cannot see me.
I've dreamed of it, but it cannot dream. So,
I'll drive it to the waveless, rolling sea.
It will swallow the horizon. It needs
to be on something; a line of sky
will do. It will ask on bended knees
to change the color of the clouds going by.
Now lost and held and bound by time, it waits;
fully strung out on a clock that does not
strike, and a headache from a golden gate
he hallucinated or else forgot.
That's where I will hold him. Together
laughing, he is no longer forever.