The beer, my dear, it is no consolation
and the warm water caressing my body no relief
and the warm water caressing my body no relief
the rocks I sit upon in the spring--they dig
just like the pain I'm feeling on this pebble reef.
I ache to feel you cuddle near my chest
I yearn to run my fingers through your hair
Away for just two nights near drove me crazy
To know you live and breathe without me there.
To know you live and breathe without me there.
My heart could self-destruct from pain I'm feeling
though I must admit I haven't shed a tear
Their eyes look down upon me from all directions
And the wolves would have a frenzy upon my fear.
You grow and learn and try new things each day now
And I'm not the center of your glorious world
I'm not so naive to think you'll die without me
But the sense of need is wanton from you, girl!
I sit here in this hot spring--naked, lonesome
and the steam can fill my lungs, but not my heart
I'm leaving this pool to find you, love, my life-line
Because true Hell is you and I apart.
You're quite the poet. Amazing how being away from home and routine can take it out of you, isn't it? I was out of town this weekend and just longed for the routine of home. Keep writing.
ReplyDeleteThanks! It really does throw you all off! I was happy for the escape, but by the time the end of the weekend came, I welcomed my tiresome but joyous school and baby, school and baby routine :) I've never been to Powell's but it sounds AMAZING! My kind of place...by the way, I have to ask, how the hell do you get so well-read? I mean, the obvious answer is to read, but you seem to have read everything in existence, and I don't know how one finds that kind of time. Are you 100 years old? ha ha
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