Love, That Red Diease
Cherry is the color of love when it is new on bed sheets
and pillowcases
It is the line drawn towards the island
Now so far off my latitude my memory convinces me that
Cherry is the color of love when it is new on bed sheets
and pillowcases
It is the line drawn towards the island
Now so far off my latitude my memory convinces me that
only ocean is there
I listen to its waves through old shells and memories lately
Echoes of the past drawn up like curtains
I’m always looking at things from the inside out
Always convincing myself next season will be better for
I listen to its waves through old shells and memories lately
Echoes of the past drawn up like curtains
I’m always looking at things from the inside out
Always convincing myself next season will be better for
waves to wash away foot prints and ride
This is the cycle I am tethered to
The predictability of tides
Weathered and thick with sand and glass
Something as seemingly random as the
This is the cycle I am tethered to
The predictability of tides
Weathered and thick with sand and glass
Something as seemingly random as the
location of moon, sun
Patterns that keep us sane or unhinged
Depending what fog you’re sifting through
I’m sifting through memories lately
Through ocean floor carcasses and fisherman boots
Through heart attack grips and pigeon holes
I’m sick with equilibrium exposure and unsure shore
Just waiting for proof to convince me, briefly
That I am still at sea.
Patterns that keep us sane or unhinged
Depending what fog you’re sifting through
I’m sifting through memories lately
Through ocean floor carcasses and fisherman boots
Through heart attack grips and pigeon holes
I’m sick with equilibrium exposure and unsure shore
Just waiting for proof to convince me, briefly
That I am still at sea.
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