Don't lick your fingers to flip a page
Find it

The fire is there
Between the pages

You open up your ears

And my voice comes in

We are both now

On perfect waves

We could talk about

Purple sunsets

Or white winters
Next to the sea

Crisp white paper
Long black pen

Draw my future

Draw again

How's it lookin'?

Do you see her eyes?

They're somewhere hidden

Hand drawn

On the corner of the pages

Where I knew you would see

Black storms of virtue
Black seas of greed