At the most motivated, loneliest times,
It's under there.
It's hiding with the colliding dreams,
Pressed up close against reality
And getting tangled in her heavy hair.
Both solid walls and clouds are white
So I climb these flights of stairs,
And comb through flightless stares,
So that it may be made better.
And it may be put together
With a collar and real leather,
With almost nothing in between
The greatest element and me,
Under all those twilit stars,
Over all that moonlit sea.
No comments:
Post a Comment