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In SloMo
The magic has been sliced, the
similiar way a hand slices the air out of
a moving vehicle
And you can hold it through this familiar dream
Five days ago, I hit the abyss of second thoughts and
what ifs
And my heart choked from the entanglement of certain
words coming out of certain mouths
A new roof under a new town does not change the
idea that you did not say I can't. You did not
say not now.
If you turned on that lamp, you would see a
girl rabid in suburbia
caught up in that little red dress
Or you would just see two hands, groping for that thin
air that has brought me here, and kept you there.
I understand this poem...
It's like a love song, with the guitar resonating the same, ambient sound that rings out beauty, puts you in a trance, with that one phrase repeating, repeating, repeating in your head.
It's a love song.
And it's brilliant.