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Written while I was supposed to be in class, but was actually at Starbucks. |
This cloud blown out my mouth isn’t smoke but cold air Walking outside in the morning, the trees are bare Spindly fingers of cold tighten round me, so I hurry on Rejecting the cold I move along Each step is a chord, I progress through the song Coming out from the shadows, it’s warm in the sun I just strode across the line, the intangible divide Between that which I’ve forgotten and to that which I’m blind Like a girl in the café, who I used to know At the table across the way, but with whom in years I’ve not spoke It’s funny to meet things long forgone to the past They once ran in first but now they’re in last But the line that they cast catches you, brings you to You feel it and slow up, adjust pace To run alongside them again, reacquaint with the taste Like this girl with the French name – Brandy, like the drink in the snifters of old men Who regale of days gone and smothered flames But I’ve never been much for the drink, it’s not conducive for me to deeply think For some the drink recalls lyrics but this song, I don’t hear it I only remember the touch as I near it But for now I feel and steal away with the breeze Some things never change, some things never leave. |