A Love Story

 Sometimes I sing you songs.  I hum you melodies in hopes of calming those spiky, scattered spots of time in between your heart and your head.

I hold your hand.

Sometimes I brush the hair from your eyes.  I look right into you, so close our breath swims together into a combination of salty-sweet silence, and I say to your soul that you are going to be okay.

I feel the tension fall from you sometimes.  In a sigh.  In the way your body sinks right into place.

My hand holds your face.

We watch the leaves dance.  The flowers blossom.  The sun rise.  The waning of the moon.

We run in the snow.

We build a fire.

We allow our bodies to speak for us and never interrupt them with words or thoughts that can be so loud at most other times- when we are not together.

Sometimes I am in awe of you.  Your purity.  Your sincerity.  Your lust for life.

I think, how could anyone pass up such a person?  How could anyone be so blind as to ignore such a light?

Sometimes I tell you stories.  I watch your pupils shrink as you feel the depths of the emotion within the darkness.  I watch them grow black as you accompany the joy within the victories.

I listen to you laugh and, no matter what, I will smile.

Sometimes our bellies ache with laughter.

We plant seeds.  We make plans.  We paint.  We watch our step.  We shut off the lights when we leave the room.

We eat ice cream.
Every bite is an experience.  We want to tell each other what that experience means to us but it usually comes out as nonsense.  So, we take another bite.

We will have laugh lines by age 40 and we will wear them proudly.

We share.

Sometimes we lay in the grass and talk about our fears.

We create a language.

When toes entangle, we fall away from the earth.  We fall for years and miles and land softly.  Ever present.

Sometimes our skin starts to sizzle in the sun as the birds take form with their flock and the clouds write  us novels.

We grow separately and we grow together.

Sometimes we are exactly the seasons and the trees and the music that tells of our trials and triumphs. 

We say goodnight.
We say good morning.

We are all of the names we can think of.

Sometimes.

Let me out.
Don't tell me everything.
Started out like any other day.
Must've gave the wrong impression.
Don't you understand where I belong?

I'm not the one.


Stand again.
They say nothing comes for free.
And that's the truth- been living in a fantasy.

Slip and slide.
The head-trip heaven
Self-denial's such a wonderful, powerful thing.

I'm not the one.

The morning dove sings.
With two broken wings.
Carry me home.
I'm not afraid.

The stars in my eyes
were shimmering lies.
Carry me home.
Don't let me fade.

Stop the press
The kid's light is growing dim.
Took a month long slide
Then the world came caving in.

When you self destruct you wind up looking
for a girl or a hug
but the writing's on the wall.

I'm not the one.

The morning dove sings with two broken wings.
Carry me home.
I'm not afraid.
The stars in my eyes were shimmering lies.
Carry me home.
Don't let me fade.

Just how thick is your skin?
Just how sharp are your teeth?
Oh, you've got a lot to learn.

Is there somewhere else that I can win?
Is there something else to start over again?
From the summit's edge to the cutting room floor.

I will be afraid...
NO MORE.

The morning dove sings with two broken wings.
Carry me home.
I'm not afraid.
The stars in my eyes were shimmering lies.
Carry me home.
Don't let me fade.
Away...