you'd thought it had died forever
and now it seems as though death is an
imaginary word- for some-country-not-ours
they sky had been gray for just a day too long,
your hair had grown darker and your eyes
forgot how green the grass could be;
flowers haven't been seen for months
your limbs locked beside you,
too many movie nights and not enough crazy nights
no one's cold hearts have any warm blood to pump; we're lizards
I don't think mine's beat in a minute
(it's been cold about that long)
the day wasn't friendly-
and now they are-
death, while it lasts, is the longest thing in the world
but just when you think you won't make it out:
the cycle begins again.