Every beat of my heart ;

23:39, Hooked on you.

Wednesday, 17 February 2010

You walk with your back towards a future while your face strains for a slice of elusive history. I wonder what's waiting at the end of your blackened rainbow?, (Futility.) where your pot of gold sits singing for an existence. Or waxing lyrical over things that will never happen, over words never mouthed while spilt desire drips off the edge of my wooden kitchen table at seven in the morning. The sun is not up yet, you rush out of the door the same way you move in and out of my life.

"Just because she comes off strong, doesn't mean there's nothing wrong."

It's a Sunday afternoon, with two just lazing on the grass,
I'd pick a flower just for you (could be the one for me).