Transitional Fossil

" The question isn't "who is going to let me"; it's "who is going to stop me".
Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Have I told you you're beautiful today??

I wish it was last week
When the sky cried to relieve the heat

It would never work out
When we found out
We looked surprised
Our desires were on the rise

We gave it one more try

But I can tell, we're getting tired
Of walking through this mire
Vitriol tipped with litmus
To define what is "us"

Beyond that there's not much more
Meeting you was an amazing joy
Sorry, never found that space
To love you in the right ways

Guacamole was our blood
Hopes and fears smeared our love.
August was the right deadline
Loving on borrowed time.

Faith and fear cast aside
New York, Boston, be nice
I'll sing to you at night
Everything will turn out right.

There's no blame, just a small smile
Walks in the park, a wishing child
Chinese and barbequed foods
Never worrying for emotion or mood

All these sound the same
I hope not the ones in your name
It's time for us both to stop holding hands
Not by those other two bands

Good night there Delilah
Bona sera, bella


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home