Time stops when you're running away from me.
We are rising with the sun,
singing the moon to sleep.
Your voice is an aubade to the meadow.
We don lopsided crowns
to go out and **** kings.
The seasons turns before I wonder
if the wind ever won your war.
You tip your head back and smile,
easy and teeth bared,
watch the way I let go of my handlebars.
We have never looked so young.
You say my name like a hymn.
We leave peaches on the windowsill
and mint leaves on the porch.
Our own kind of magic.
Not even the earth has enough hands
to hold us hostage.
We lay down in the flowers
just to say something terrible.
It might be the first time I've spoken in years,
the way the words scrape my throat.
You dont need a reason to be free.