time passes slowly here
it seems like last week was years ago
and the morning jilted fragments from the life of a stranger
my past always seems to be that way -- out of my reach
yet some moments wash over me
stereophonic sound and technicolor
when i call out to them
and they become now
and now is irrelevant
and it all just comes flooding back
spectacular visions before my eyes
cotton candy pink, red, blue, and yellow skies
The sense of the deepness of the ocean as it glittered under the moonlight -- gold,black,gold again
and the glitter of your eyes as they peered back into mine, moons ago
the whistle from the train on the tracks that ran through the forest and the hum of all the crickets who lived there
which once used to lull me to sleep, years ago
looking back i think these are the only moments i can ever call mine
and all i have of value to my name