à assez-pas-bientôt
i can't send you my life as an e-mail attachment, and you can't forward me yours. how could we ever fit the raw edges of our love in a box fashioned from the vagaries of gigabytes?
the violence wrought on your voice by bad cell connections pains me more than any manner of desecration. what to do, what to don't? we long to so wonderfully open ourselves, but right-clicks can't download the attachment.
i leave you hanging on your mouthful of cafe sorbet, smitten with Paris for the first time, and the window of your heart beckons my climb into that afternoon, the flare of my eyes to keep the lantern flickering, but i see you best now when they are closed, and my appetite turns upon the quenching of my hunger for your touch.
the promise of au revoir = seeing you before me. until then, i'm a blind date in a borrowed tuxedo, flagging a cab with a broken umbrella in a drizzle of braille.
what can i say now, in this soft voice that sounds only in response to you? see you not-soon-enough.
can you hang on that long? my continent's drifting, but i swear i'm steering as fast as i can.
the violence wrought on your voice by bad cell connections pains me more than any manner of desecration. what to do, what to don't? we long to so wonderfully open ourselves, but right-clicks can't download the attachment.
i leave you hanging on your mouthful of cafe sorbet, smitten with Paris for the first time, and the window of your heart beckons my climb into that afternoon, the flare of my eyes to keep the lantern flickering, but i see you best now when they are closed, and my appetite turns upon the quenching of my hunger for your touch.
the promise of au revoir = seeing you before me. until then, i'm a blind date in a borrowed tuxedo, flagging a cab with a broken umbrella in a drizzle of braille.
what can i say now, in this soft voice that sounds only in response to you? see you not-soon-enough.
can you hang on that long? my continent's drifting, but i swear i'm steering as fast as i can.