"sad here with ourselves in between us..."

"The kettle's on, the sun has gone, another day.
She offers me, Tibetan tea, on a flower tray.
She's at the door, she wants to score, she really needs to say

I loved you a long time ago, you know
where the wind's own 'forget-me-nots' blow
but I just couldn't let myself go
not knowing what on earth there was to know

But i wish that I had 'cause I 'm feeling so sad
that I never had one of your children
when across the room, inside a tomb, a chance is waxed and waned
the night is young why are we so hung-up in each other's chains?

I must take her, I must make her, while the dove domains
and feel the juice run as she flies
run my wings under her sighs
as the flames of enternity rise
to lick us with the first born lash of dawn.

Oh, really, my dear, I can't see what we fear,
sad here with ourselves in between us.



And at the door, we can't say more, than just another day.
Without a sound, I turn around, and I walk away."

φωτο: Edward Steichen