let's talk about lonely nights and even lonelier mornings
what is there to love in the sunrise when you can't see that beauty reflected in someone else's eyes?
there's only poetry in windy rooms and without someone to share a quiet cup of coffee with.
------------------ I want to float home, high heels in hand, arm in arm with you you and your hippy music I love you and your quiet ways, my lips on your cheek you and your bare chest
(and my number there, above your heart, scrawled in sharpie)
and us surrounded by bodies and the pull of the music deafening in the crowded basement obscure lagers and a young ego temporary tattoos courtesy of the stoop crew
earlier, in the parking lot, voices calling my name from the dark, the sound rising over our heads and shoulders, the feel of it in the hollow of my chest
belonging
I want to grasp the sleepy pines, I want to hold the ease of your language
I see and hear and feel so much Where does it all go?