| View Blog
|
|
|
|
you wash the brimestone from my hands
and fill me with your atmosphere
charging the ions in my chest
igniting my breath and taking it away
sitting with me beyond the shackels of your cross
listening to the rambles of my smoke
and holding me when I stop
I've begin to realize that your love for me is unique
you've made it strong and yet it makes my throat feel delicate
you hold me in your solaceness
a mystery beyond the human brain
you are my peace, my breath, and my rain
a pressence, a spirit, a cleansing
the blood that fills my viens
I finally feel like I found a place where we left cliche behind
I talk and talk and talk until I wait for you inside
I am not alone, I've ran through fields and scanned the coast
but I am so far from having to do this on my own
I'm sorry if I claimed to be a philospher
when all you wanted was to sit and hold me
thank you for painting with me,
thank you for being with me
thank you for listening to everything I say
June 17,2007
|
|
|
|
| |
|
|