We can't touch.
That's what they say.
It's impossible for us.
For everyone.

The air between makes it impossible.

We can touch.
That's what I say.
It's possible for us.
For everyone.

I felt your soft skin against mine.

We can't touch.
That's what you say.
It's possible for everyone.
Not for us.

Had a dream about a girl
and some time travel
but only at the end.

Enemy was a hierarchical deal (like bees);
started as a corporation,
then began the nightmare fuel,
only
this was not a nightmare.

She had gone back before was the twist.
Obviously she lost then too,
so I figure
this had to have been the second time.
Although who knows
right?

There was a word,
a phrase;
"mobility loops".
Ain't quite right, is it?

The word that fits...
It's on the tip of my tongue.
Cinch? Craton? Catalectic?
Does it even start with c?
Maybe I need to make up a word.

I'm so wrapped up with being
wrapped up with you
that I can't wrap my head around
being with someone new

Give me the bad news first
don't sugar coat anything
I don't want to hear the good news  first as it contains lies
lies that are worst then the bad news itself

Tell me now or forever hold your peace
let me encountered the truth as the truth would set me free.
Bad news:
1.
2.
2.
4.
5.
Okay now good news
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
Well thank you for that wonderful broadcasting.

I miss my baby, he told lies maybe
Left me thinking, got me drinking
Told him: You won't notice me for I differ a million miles from your eyes.
The first time I saw him in Mendoza, Between the bars
He's wise and tall, I couldn't resist him at all
Now he's the axis and I have totally lost control
He's in my viens.
God,  I'm going insane
He's everything I've been looking for
And maybe a little bit more.

It's a ridiculous cliche but, ******* it, your eyes...
Forgive me if I don't always make eye contact,
Or look away too soon.  I'm listening. I swear it.
I'm afraid you might think that I'm full of myself,
Or afraid you might think that I've no self-esteem.
The truth is much simpler than either extreme.
The truth is I'm somewhere right in between.
but still:
Twin seas draw my stare and I fear what I'll say.
Fear falling into their unlit depths, where even my silence could betray.
The source to illuminate and fuel our lives' desires,
Find it in her hands , her touch,
Find it in her eyes.
Her eyes of ocean depth see me,
Giving no safe place to hide,
Searching bad cliches for the light, the otherness inside.
But what if all of my words are wrong?
What if they drive you away?
What if the light between oceans is mute?
Insufficient to make you stay?