Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Could

Dead fly in the jacuzzi
Burnt twigs and some leaves
Oh, i don't want to leave
Right now

Blink in my eye
Marble balls and some white
Oh, i don't want to see
Right now

I could be walking over sand
And still feel the snow
I could be sleeping in her walks
And still feel the dream

Heads in your nooze
Scream out a bruise
Oh, i don't want to
Hang on

Taste in your buds
Spill blood on the mud
Oh, i don't want to
Ever play

I could be dancing with a wolf
And still hear the lake
I could be howling at a lotus
And still hear her sing

I should be
I would be
I could be
Doing any of these things



1 comment:

Sahar said...

oh, you wrote so much! and I was away.