your passion is a mountain i've climbed
time after time
but i can't make it to the top
your desire is elusive
it slips through my fingers before i can think to grab on
i want to study your design like an architect
but your lips take hold of me
and i forget my purpose
we venture, nervously, but willingly
far from home
with a sleepy, silent return
the line between brave and utterly stupid
has been erased
so we're living on a diet of syndicated jokes
and liquid courage
to the point where none of it seems real enough to comprehend
where the honesty is almost trite
where i can't tell if you're afraid or sad
or happy, or maybe you just don't care
or maybe you're too afraid to care
because you know that i'll be missing the feeling of you beside me
that security of your body in the crowd of my thoughts
i haven't gone far enough to miss you yet
but i already pine for you when i sleep
the great wall of your shoulders makes me feel safe
the map of your skin guides my need
but in your world, i feel like a little girl
trying to convince kings to raze cities