Sit out in the sun and pick out a good book
Let the sunshine into your skin
Sip on cold lemonade
And reflect on the day
Thoughts of the girl, thoughts of the new life and thoughts of certain loss
You want the book's text to be audible words,
Coming from the one who matters
Whispering in your ear
"It's humid baby, I think it's going to rain
Grab your navy blue umbrella and let's run away
To fresh covers and warm tea
I'll hold you softly (sweetly)
And mend your heart with 3 words...
'Let's go home'
I'll fly us there on newly received wings"
But like her wings
This thought is made of paper
And that doesn't fucking hold up.
1 comment:
Joseph, I really like this.
That's all I have to say.
-Gill.
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