Feb 22, 2006 15:34
the streetlights through the blinds
blink then fade
blink then fade
red melts to yellow
yellow melts to green
with each blinding streak of headlight
the technicolor stretch of highway
blurs with my vision
until all i see is brown,
brown eyes in the heart of my mind
the kind of brown that gets deeper
and richer behind each smile.
someone speaks in my direction.
you're smiling at me
and i'm stuck in memories
that seem more like recollections
of a dream,
lost in the rhythmic
blink then fade
blink then fade
of streetlights behind your smile.
time rewinds and i'm back,
six months,
a year,
lost in the chaotic stillness
of your eyes.
someone speaks in my direction.
it's midnight.
someone vies for my attention.
i'm watching the sun rise
over a town that's foreign,
in the only house that feels like home.
someone raises their voice in my direction.
i tune them out.
you're humming a Blind Melon song,
and making us breakfast.
there's a hand on my shoulder.
your arms are around me.
they ask if i want more coffee.
you tell me it's time to go.
they ask if i want more coffee.
i beg you not to go.
they ask.
i answer.
red melts to yellow,
yellow melts to green
your eyes blink then fade.
you blink then fade.