and when rife you lay your lips upon mine I imagine when we're finally dead and time will be ceased and just as we're deceased heaven will be gone 'cause there's no increase on this indulgence you and I are pent well in young and able or old and grey, there's telling your sweet lips pressed to mine is set within my memory of love, forever, where I fell in with you and ensued an expansion of my heart growing old, let us dream only death brings our lips part
I put on perfume and sexy underwear just for you tonight in case you decided to take me out and show me a good time but no call or message left me in my lace and underwire and time alone spent waiting at home doused my patient sexual fire I'm tiring of trying to please you and appease your attraction I'm finding it hard to cease intolerance of your inaction get in the sack sure it's a cure but only as band-aids remove I'd like to see for once your heart bled for something to prove
with sincerity, there's plenty of things about which I won't lie whether feelings or instincts or tired moments in time flattery I intended but with intentions of friendship only we've shared disposition on knowledge but don't discount strive of knowing I think you fear too much, but for you or I I can't discern and what from written words without discussion can you learn? don't determine to be a stranger, it would be a tragedy and pain me for being taken away by feelings, the then taking of them's an aching you made me realise the cost of knowledge is sometimes high and in ascending so it gets me low but still, I'll be alright cause of more ways to skin a cat and in addition forever new souls to acquire I'll stay sad a while at maintenance of your distance but find others to replace you in time lines from a song strummed and struck me true you left me in the dark land of the sun and a chorus of standing alone in a doorway to spend my life waiting, growing old whilst young
her big, full, green eyes did not swell with tears but two crystal drops did creep as evidence of fears of the time and seas and skies to part her and one who'd swift, so swift, in just a year of her heart become imbibed and joined in such a way so's you could say friends but such simple a word impales and fails in it's extent to lend idea of what such word should bring correct to mind the hearts they share not only live but are filled with life
with the tears caught in tissue and frowns resolved he found his composure hard then and there to hold he'd not felt his heart tug to tear for such reason and he knew gaining greater was his imminent leaving but for any the traces of memories that ensconced filled him up with a value of her and friendship's cost he'd maintain of investment no matter how long and determined he left to all her doubts prove wrong
flustered, she came to me on coloured wings and uttered things about love and rings and singing wistfully of her lost unicorn and the cost of trying to steal it's horn she said despite the warning given of falling and calling it hers she insisted attempting to find it and make it hers but it was set upon freedom not to be deterred and when she left she was of a plot to follow the unicorn with all she's got across the plains and seas and skies the unicorn is love and the horn her prize striving to attain she spoke over her shoulder of hope I'll gain that little closer I told her well godspeed to you if your freedom's such cage with good fortune your endevour will tether your age I watched the unicorn upon the clouds bound into the distance her cry a shying sound but the echo did last in my ears of her plea unicorn, my love, what'll my years be till free
I met you at 205 under a soft, starry, clear night filled with passion I offered of myself and red wine bled for intoxication and a little shy of affection let's exchange names and make a connection
then increasing times after that lip-laden evening quick became us a pattern of philosophical teething back and forth till you contended I too intense but as much as wished, I couldn't my hope prevent
there's an extent to which you get in my mind creeping and seeping so many thoughts find concerned or imagined where you are subject in a combination of muse, inspiration and loving
I begin to write you text messages at times and seemingly think of questions and lines to enquire of your position and reflect upon mine in relation to your perception and world's design
Dani, is the past a grotesque animal or is it a lie? can you say it is so when it plagues our mind's eye because to be grotesque is so displeasing to view and all I know of it is contemplation and review
one day online you reasoned a belief but gave no reason as I typed a hypothesis your silence it teased me I'd love to know where your emotionless roots and why you're determined but the present to exclude
perhaps it's unfamiliarity that begs my inquisition or the dissimilarity in perception and so many positions that we oppose but respect and like mirrors reflect to gain images of other selves or let feelings intersect
you never say goodbye and I wonder where you go when online our words too few and I'm just to hope we see each other again to resume all left to speak and I keep writing whilst waiting for you another week
afterwards, in my arms, I held you near me through the night stirring, I felt you shiver, as in your quivered sleep you cried and in the full moon lighting finding a fighting urge to wake you I gently whispered your name and over as a lover ought to until soon enough with my cooing you grew steady again and it was the last occasion when my intent I could defend
and Tegan, know I'm sure that, I'll always remember when that mid-summer evening, wreathing, together was spent sleeping in your bedroom with the street faced windows open the breeze through them singing with an affection softly, slowly and the sheets crumpled at our feet, lain on blankets underneath with only humid temperature and our skin touching to sheath
and leaving, the moment of dawn, as I walked out your front door recalling that morning, a wave of feeling hit me without warning for my caution letting down I found myself saying out loud gazing upwards at your window, girl I'm fond of you, no need tout and my doubt was lessened in that brief second by the evening passed and aroused became my beckoning hope to see how long it'd last
you finally asked so I decided answer it, trying to remain cryptic and for the inquisition I packed away all interest and mystery it was something about the way you and I both with ease requited with a feat that completely defeated a usual disposition of spite of the other's quite felt not need hidden spiraling silently life and oh, with recollection, to've maintained such mutual strive
it assumed a brief drift of new perfume that you grew and claimed to always wear and it soon became and will always stay the way that I know you as I knew you then
as a soft summer aroma in small doses of intoxication to and through my nose that spoke a promise of getting closer as I learnt to live all for what it owed
how young I were and how I lusted after you for what it's sense turned on yearning coupled with infatuating you became exemplary before too long
heightened by the striking of your smell was my hunger ravishing to take you when all I's let was a kiss upon your neck and you kept your lips to earn my due
rue I did at times your games and tease I could not play by the rules to save soon enough I broke and made my move and dug my romantic endeavor's grave
now when I catch again upon a breeze towards the end of summer that scent it sends crazy and by passion takes me and I remember everything we meant
promise of staying in bed when plenty on and never ceasing to be consumed by the other and their senses melding and believing this dream never conclude
but as the perfume becomes familiar lost in the air and smells of the street I look around expecting you to've found me again but find it just my memory that's leaked
I wonder what my urge is to tell you, scream out to you, of how and the extent to which, I'm bent on saying you make me feel alright. I know only three words to describe, but they mislead your heart from my mind.
I like you; what's to claim such feeling? And so exclaimed that I'm almost ashamed, because for those three words, which lead to another three, speaking them sees responsibility and blame. When as all words, especially for actions, tire and become untrue they reap only rue from both sides they were ever uttered or whispered between sleep's quiet shutters.
In misleading your heart from my mind I mean this: I speak of my fondness within context of time. Of time as such, that it doesn't exist, as I can not know tomorrow. Because to know tomorrow and that it exists, which I don't, is to promise my heart won't change. Those that never change heart live in the hope of tomorrow because to dispose it doesn't exist reckons unbearable sorrow.
So my urge is not invoked by you as much as it is my hope. Not hope, see, for tomorrow, but rather my continuation in imbuement of feeling and further this is why I cannot utter those other three words 'I love you'. It's too great a condition of this existence tomorrow.
how do I tell you no, lover? there's no set way to know what I want it's surely as yet and most likely never; not love I want to show you and I are as others precedent now tired and wired to, as marionettes, be obliged what's set by life and a strive; that as a good puppet show pleases the crowd's expecting eye
but find out swift you do when the strings become apparent and the act loses all tact that to react to the tug and pull of resignation will, with repetition true fact: see snap and dangle in struggle to know one's own weight under such collapse
the weight then bared, for given arms to fate forsaken by the path well trod or the belief in love like belief in God, is anvil heavy with grief of reality that we're all so alone and driven to pursue romance, despite it's calamity
but for the above and though what I know's not love it is still not enough for me to pull our twine undone I can not claim to love you but I can claim you a lover and it's not nearly the same thing though still being too much
for addition at the end of an 'r' splits and separates the definition love is given whether or not requited but a lover only gives affection for attention not to mention to just feel alright for as long as the other can make for the time so my conflict endures for why I want to say no but for now make you mine how do I tell you lover, no? when what I want to say my actions won't show
night welcomes her with open arms from an empty day once filled with harm others don't know what they've done to the care they caused his heart to shun
she awoke to find her head rested asleep on the desk at her computer screen awaiting his call or appearing online having lost track of time for drinking too much wine
a trail of gossip leads split two's time one will speed ahead the other flail behind love doesn't blossom when winter won't heed and like a splinter it kills but doesn't bleed
but what one who shrivels at words unconfirmed to watch from a distance another yearn? friends hope to her; given space he'll change but the mind's relentless when the heart speaks claim
she sleeps less lately than any I know cause the hope and moments she wants to stow she's of no persuasion of his treatment than it was just despite her obvious bereavement
she's trying to see an end result without blame but love always knows fault her pain is vaults of keenness unrequited and oh, if to've been equipped foresighted
she sleeps to dream of when all was good and to escape the should and could and would takes refuge in imagination's hunger nightly fighting to turn time's hands back younger
he, well he's a desert's oasis mirage pretty and lusting, so still the lies pass no refreshment or saturation is within grasp so fiction her instinct begs of to ask
