Saturday, April 18, 2015

Cold nostalgic energy.

[I've endured, I've eaten, I've persevered, I've been cavalier, but rarely have I forgotten.]

         As the deadlock begins to break, here in this darkness we'll remain,
We'll languish in the languid light, and hope for evenings of more substance,
We'll cast our thoughts and doubts like lots, here where we smash all our hopes and dreams,
The parabolic lines intersecting at the highest highs and lowest lows of us, but you, you're really ...
You're something.

I really hate to ask, but to you my dear sweet darling, to what end?
To what end do we proceed?
Go on and shake your face at me, shake your fists, but you and I both know,that -
Yeah, so now I've made my choice, I can't ever take it back.

All that time we spent, starving early on,
our lust for the taste of tongues, but the simple fact of the matter is that our lust
won't cover us, won't bury us in this and we won't
 cower or run for cover,
strangle me, smother me and

I will listen
And i have heard you for the thousandth time today
But I will Listen
In my indifference
I'll hear you for a thousand more days
And I will listen, because behind this oddity is light,
Behind this oddity is life, even though,
We are broad and older, and we drink to celebrate,
We drink a tribute to common sense
We really only get
In two year increments.

I know I struggle because I suppress thoughts of you,
but maybe, just maybe, girl, your thoughts of me are absent -

Do you remember that thing I wrote about
About being able to talk about my future
Without being careless with words like providence and the part
About thanking my lucky stars at night for unrequited love,
Or the impression that I get that you're slung up by my wit?
One touch from you and it's over,
One touch and I'm over,
I'm bent.

The designs in the stars, the lines of constellations dotted like the lines in the road,
The heat mirage rippling them into oily black and orange and blue, and you?
You're nothing but a dusty memory now, fading into asphalt distance in the rearview.

What's this?
Cold nostalgic energy
The chill of cold at the poles,
        The rocky silence of ice in a place
        Where the only direction is north,

What's this?
    Cold nostalgic energy,
    It's plainly fading,
   The chill of cold at the poles
    You're plainly fading,
    Fading into distance in the rearview,

  . . .