There is something there, in the essence of this, something that i tasted, salt and sweat, dripping from your fingertips. There is footsteps in the stairway around my heart, i hear them creaking in the moonlight, as you find your way in the dark.
Where is my vision?
I don't tend to look at your eyes, i cannot, i do not have to be that strong. I found a million pardons, when i was asking if there was something i did wrong. I feel the scoop of your hand on that familiar place on my back, and i headily breathe you, as i hear your knuckles crack, from the weight of my familiarity.
Where do i come from?
What is that whisper in the ****** air. The dreams that i have are so absent and so bare. I lost and i lose and try to walk again, on broken ankles, with broken toes, my legs have the strength of ten men. And i am lost, i am lost, and i will say it again. But i am lost in being lost, so is this my religion, my prayer and my a-men?
Where is my heart?
Free me, throw me into the air, shoot me, ****** me, act like you don't care. There is no obligation in an ounce of your tone. Your music is denotation, your heartbeat becomes a microphone. And you sing, you sing, a love song to me 'Dorothy you are home'
Where is my place?
Dreaming of second comings, and i desperately seek your face. I want to kiss you, to kiss you, with my lips, i will erase. You are nothing more to me, than a seeker in this battle of sun-down to sun-up. Find me, come hide me, come fill me with your cup.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 6:05 PM UTC
There is something there, in the essence of this, something that i tasted, salt and sweat, dripping from your fingertips. There is footsteps in the stairway around my heart, i hear them creaking in the moonlight, as you find your way in the dark.
Where is my vision?
I don't tend to look at your eyes, i cannot, i do not have to be that strong. I found a million pardons, when i was asking if there was something i did wrong. I feel the scoop of your hand on that familiar place on my back, and i headily breathe you, as i hear your knuckles crack, from the weight of my familiarity.
Where do i come from?
What is that whisper in the ****** air. The dreams that i have are so absent and so bare. I lost and i lose and try to walk again, on broken ankles, with broken toes, my legs have the strength of ten men. And i am lost, i am lost, and i will say it again. But i am lost in being lost, so is this my religion, my prayer and my a-men?
Where is my heart?
Free me, throw me into the air, shoot me, ****** me, act like you don't care. There is no obligation in an ounce of your tone. Your music is denotation, your heartbeat becomes a microphone. And you sing, you sing, a love song to me 'Dorothy you are home'
Where is my place?
Dreaming of second comings, and i desperately seek your face. I want to kiss you, to kiss you, with my lips, i will erase. You are nothing more to me, than a seeker in this battle of sun-down to sun-up. Find me, come hide me, come fill me with your cup.
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