at worst i feel bad for awhile
My somnolent bones awake,
pulling me up like a stream of white rivers.
Eluding my wondering heart to the light of this San Pedro morning
that lay high above in the celestial blue sky.
It looks almost similar to these Bayville blue prisons that we call home.
I stand against the warm sunlight and
watch as his strong, beautiful body flows in with the smell of fresh brew
And that look of sweet romance in his eyes.
His legs are covered by his Santa Monica blue faded denim,
His eyes talk of dreaming, they’re cloudy like quartz stone,
deep in the quarry of a secret land
We stand together to look off our balcony,
watching over St. Johns Bay.
I pretend that we are butterfly wings,
flying beyond open waters
pulling me up like a stream of white rivers.
Eluding my wondering heart to the light of this San Pedro morning
that lay high above in the celestial blue sky.
It looks almost similar to these Bayville blue prisons that we call home.
I stand against the warm sunlight and
watch as his strong, beautiful body flows in with the smell of fresh brew
And that look of sweet romance in his eyes.
His legs are covered by his Santa Monica blue faded denim,
His eyes talk of dreaming, they’re cloudy like quartz stone,
deep in the quarry of a secret land
We stand together to look off our balcony,
watching over St. Johns Bay.
I pretend that we are butterfly wings,
flying beyond open waters