sometimes i'm a little sad
thinking about your warm apartment
laying still with my underwear still on
nothing to hide as you draw skulls over my face
i don't miss it at all
only in quiet moments like this
i want you to run your fingers over my back
kiss the spine of my neck and tell me all your secrets
but maybe it's better if you don't
smiling at you and we're really getting somewhere
it's just something we have to do, i know it's not fun, but in some ways
it's the last step or at least we're getting there
cross the waves and my back is killing me it's almost day light
and she's soft on my mind
this world i'll never be a part of
i telling you of my love, as we talk about angels and past lives
making up these memories, as true as daylight
as false as my sense of humor
curling up my toes while we're having sex and like i said we're really getting somewhere
and yet i still dream of that flood gate opening and kisses on the back of my neck
while your curl up behind me, soft and admitting
nothing
she walks out onto the patio and i follow her
the lemonade in my hand
there's a soft breeze and as she turns to me her hair waves hello
her eyes tell me she's been waiting for me
i shake my head and look out the window at my lone street light
keeping me up at night. . .
minor key and paint across everything, valenica and a hammock, wishing that day could last forever
i was close to you and something was, almost there. . .
the wind blows across my room, my nipples have been hard all week
and i wonder where this little bit of loneliness creeps in from
