Your paintings scratch lines
|
of blue and gold you open me up
|
was folding into myself
|
a deck of cards
|
face down empty on the shelf
|
|
your song with emphasis on one and two
|
then I couldn't keep time
|
you took me into a dream
|
an exploding soundtrack
|
That I treasure as mine
|
That I treasure as mine
|
|
I was bent over my chest
|
an invisible line sinking
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but then the light of the lamp
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that I held in my blistered hands
|
you the fuel
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and me the fool for not noticing
|
|
this chinese junk we're on
|
strapping strong, we cast free the lines
|
let's float here together
|
clearly we better slip out to the brine
|
|
-----------------
|
Parisian Dream
|
| Laura Veirs |
