Fears are vultures in the nights
soaring thirstily, and hungrily...
Eating becomes a fear,
attempts become impossible...
He is running through the house
scratching on the couch...
"Amma", her voice goes
as she strides barefoot...
If we communicated like the moon and the ocean...
we could wave our past goodbye and not be afraid...
Your toes must be tired;
after all that dancing you...
I could lose myself to us,
wiggle my toes in the grassy blades...
To capture
a moment...
She's whiskey in a teacup
and he's a greenhouse...
When you touch me
my skin becomes an ocean...
I feel like being the distraction
keeping you up nights, vow...
The candle you lit on winter nights
has worn down to the wick. The crimson...