The lines are blurring
weaving in and out, must find stillness
My own concerns, off the shelf.
Kisses that can't wait, smiles like a dam to a flood.
If I dare, I will sink
anchor, stowed.
Standing, walking here and there
climbing walls
breath and pulse, like a two door Ford Grand Torino
on the streets of San Francisco.
If I care, I will sink
anchor, stowed.
Weird thing too, haven't seen you
in a hundred years. I can still feel
your breath in the crook of my neck
beckoning, like that night.
It ain't fair, I will sink
anchor, stowed.
You're not feeding me, but I can taste it
I swear, like a black tie dinner.
Sinking doesn't matter,
anymore. I'm hooked.
