If anything, we are alike:
our music stems from the same fading cities;
we spend our words carefully, and thread them with care;
we are visited by rare memories;
our world is an open one,
a world without lines.
Whenever we meet, the moments expand, always in the same way:
you fill me with shapes and turnings,
I see your patterns stirring, before you illustrate them with your hands;
I steal transmissions of light from your eyes.
If anything, I would like you to speak the world,
when the temperature has dropped,
and we are appeased, noiseless.
I can picture it:
a car lets us disappear, and so we lose ourselves in trees, the sky;
and we walk, twisting through the forest,
dodging branches, holding them when they’re shaping to spring and pounce…
I am listening as you talk to the silence.
I will unlock my self, let it pour out into your hands:
and you will laugh, laugh yourself dry –
and as one natural movement, you will hold me,
confine my pain,
disconnect me,
wash me.
If anything, this is the pale wish I take with me,
holding it close, holding tight,
until I drop it into my dream
like a drug
dissolving
in water.
[ 07 January 2003: Message edited by: WordyOne ]
[ 07 January 2003: Message edited by: WordyOne ]
our music stems from the same fading cities;
we spend our words carefully, and thread them with care;
we are visited by rare memories;
our world is an open one,
a world without lines.
Whenever we meet, the moments expand, always in the same way:
you fill me with shapes and turnings,
I see your patterns stirring, before you illustrate them with your hands;
I steal transmissions of light from your eyes.
If anything, I would like you to speak the world,
when the temperature has dropped,
and we are appeased, noiseless.
I can picture it:
a car lets us disappear, and so we lose ourselves in trees, the sky;
and we walk, twisting through the forest,
dodging branches, holding them when they’re shaping to spring and pounce…
I am listening as you talk to the silence.
I will unlock my self, let it pour out into your hands:
and you will laugh, laugh yourself dry –
and as one natural movement, you will hold me,
confine my pain,
disconnect me,
wash me.
If anything, this is the pale wish I take with me,
holding it close, holding tight,
until I drop it into my dream
like a drug
dissolving
in water.
[ 07 January 2003: Message edited by: WordyOne ]
[ 07 January 2003: Message edited by: WordyOne ]
