I was just bony hands as cold as a winder pole You held a warm stone out new flowing blood to hold Oh what a contrast you were To the brutes in the halls My timid young fingers held a decent animal Over the ramparts you tossed The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers Tied to a brick, sweet as a song The years have been short but the days were long Cool of a temperate breeze from dark skies to wet grass We fell in a field, it seems now a thousand summers passed When our kite lines first crossed We tied them into knots And to finally fly apart we had to cut them off Since then it's been a book you read in reverse So you understand less as the pages turn Or a movie so crass and awkwardly cast That even I could be the star I don't look back much as a rule And all this way before murder was cool But your memory is here and I'd like it to stay Warm light on a winter's day Over the ramparts you tossed The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers Tied to a brick, sweet as a song The years have seemed short but the days go slowly by Two loose kites falling from the sky Drawn to the ground and an end to flight
1 comment:
I was just bony hands as cold as a winder pole
You held a warm stone out new flowing blood to hold
Oh what a contrast you were
To the brutes in the halls
My timid young fingers held a decent animal
Over the ramparts you tossed
The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
Tied to a brick, sweet as a song
The years have been short but the days were long
Cool of a temperate breeze from dark skies to wet grass
We fell in a field, it seems now a thousand summers passed
When our kite lines first crossed
We tied them into knots
And to finally fly apart we had to cut them off
Since then it's been a book you read in reverse
So you understand less as the pages turn
Or a movie so crass and awkwardly cast
That even I could be the star
I don't look back much as a rule
And all this way before murder was cool
But your memory is here and I'd like it to stay
Warm light on a winter's day
Over the ramparts you tossed
The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers
Tied to a brick, sweet as a song
The years have seemed short but the days go slowly by
Two loose kites falling from the sky
Drawn to the ground and an end to flight
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