It is the life I live, this cold thing you stare down at. And it stings just vaguely at your fingertips, as you work it over, Dulling it like a worry stone. All I could ever hope for is to be presentable, Or at least to occupy a smaller place, But you flinch when the doorknob turns, And the spot in your shoulder for me gets narrow and rigid. All I could ever want is to repay you for the cab fare. Take you home in the morning, whip the car around to make sure you dont have to cross the street. You were always nervous, Always looking for a place to get coffee You never knew what you were doing with me, Reckless in your caution. Never made it to that spot up north together. The tires skidded and you turned the car around I just watched as the clouds outside got sucked up into the atmosphere, As the pigeons heralded out unknown songs of comfort from their lofty stoops.
Posted on: Sat, 26 Oct 2013 17:45:33 +0000
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