It was summer's bleeding
whether on dried grass
or straw
or whatever you want to call it
soaking
Sweat from pouring instruments
that we would give
Hands outstretched to our counterparts
our falling stars
That gave shape to our words,
our turns, our learned behavior
Static kisses, that were such the darling fantasy
My, empty vase of colored strings instead of tapestry
You've, been, watching me.
Our hauntings seas, my gallantries.
Shining armor on my eyelids
Painted faces, flying starships
All my heartstrings into
Static kisses, that were such the darling fantasy
My, empty vase of colored strings instead of tapestry.
I heard that when you walk on past those doors
You're followed by the man that you had left
behind so long ago, when you began to notice,
Those silhoettes, those heated scents
That greet us from a hand to hold
A cheek to kiss, a face to miss.
We all adore the hopeful mountains in the distance
We all have planned our mansions in the distance
Grasp the walking stick and for an instance
Plan to have our mansion in the distance
But you and I
We were such the sudden contemplative types
Your icy eyes, the daisy type of deeper maybes, for a moment.
And let me tell you, it sort of strikes me how this conversation's been
such a smooth and gentle river stone for skipping
classes, distracted, by the way your eyes reflect so well this fire
stirring in my soul like sparks that rise up towards the sunset.
Wrote this one years ago, one of my personal favorites.
