(no subject)
her favorite singer sings
like he was caressing this song out of him
making love to the air
his lips doorways to a passion more magic than managed
it sounds like her favorite drink tastes
the one she calls guilty pleasure
which feels so luxurious sipping over ice
he drowned, a suicide maybe
and it makes sense that he would have gone that way
he always had that watery quality, his soul slipping elusively over the rocks
he drown before she was born
but it feels like yesterday
his voice burns with longing
demanding attention with it's beautiful agony
it feels like her heart
left clues for her from it's ancient mythical past
like he was caressing this song out of him
making love to the air
his lips doorways to a passion more magic than managed
it sounds like her favorite drink tastes
the one she calls guilty pleasure
which feels so luxurious sipping over ice
he drowned, a suicide maybe
and it makes sense that he would have gone that way
he always had that watery quality, his soul slipping elusively over the rocks
he drown before she was born
but it feels like yesterday
his voice burns with longing
demanding attention with it's beautiful agony
it feels like her heart
left clues for her from it's ancient mythical past