The sun spreads candy floss across a blue sky,
its drawing a sleepy starry blanket over a world tired of its own hustle and bustle
as it coughs a smokey sigh of relief and dismay,
a carbon-monoxide sympathy.

There is a heartbeat in my ears,
a tingle on my skin -
as I await dressed to the nines,
for a clock to chime one hour closer to nine o'clock
             and to you.

Its an exhilarating mix of nearly there's and what-ifs.

There's a ring on a doorbell, familiar eyes smile back.
O, lord when did I become such a coward - look up -
look up - look up - eyes meet
as if for the first time - thump-thump tainted inhalations of breaths to short to say 'I'm fine'
my heart told me this was a good idea,
but I'm starting to think my heart''s a liar.
(Its probably just the wine)

Suddenly, a butterfly grazes a hand,
it becomes a white hot ember
thrilling and unabridged.

Its a tear of a dress, a scratch on a back, a familiar pleasure in an unfamiliar way,
Its a risk and reward
and the outside world closes its eyes and draws close
but not you and me,
not exactly,
not really,
not at all - no
not you.
not me.