"dancing lips" - volume in progress |
that morning so green and fine when that finnish sun reechoed all over its shine as if it were the only star, that morning unexpectedly lanky and new as if it were not just one, but two, we were both in the car. now you think you know me well. you caress me in the same way and expect me to open the shell. but I still hold you at bay, even if I am so close to you. can you see? there is no boundary between what I am and what I can be. be detached once in a while, reinvent the things - what they meant -, since I can get stuck in denial. don't be an acacia excessive with scent, since I can eat every flower above, as that unconscious, small turtle dove. I learnt my mind is such a dirty land and that my soul is made of sand. pride, laziness, envy - animals without marrow - haunted me long through the forest, until I laughingly entered the valley of sorrow, where bodies are rivers of protest. I wish I were a globe of light. yet, I fail to gather all the rays without you. keep this end to catch the nature and keep it tight! I give in to you, incessant dream - nothing but blue - some of our dust bodies have a heavenly hue. |