contrary to popular
belief
we are the sun
& the moon
but our fates haven't
accepted us
in the finest of diners
& the stars
are shy with their
violins

come capture all I've
held in gold dollars
for you
& you alone

we would have made
the greatest outlaws
a red convertible as
our getaway car
& enough tequila to last us
'til August when the
war is in our
rearview mirror
& the sun is hot on
our tongues

I just hope you realize
that I miss you
when you ain't around

& I hope you start to see
things my lonesome
way
in pale blue scarves
& touch of kerosene for
the bonfire dreams that make up
all I dreamed of
for our never-ending
paths
that never cease
to cross