Oh this city upon the sea, this town up upon a bay,
steep streets covered now in brine, the crashing of
waves on strait shores, cats meandering the tall cliffs -
its where a heart can now reside; where my mind drifts between lies.
Listening then for the leaving.
I met with her outside your confines, yes dear port, had to
traipses over the many causeways to find your jewel, had to
break my back above the sea again, happened to
find out that hot sun on white flesh makes the pictures last.
We never went into the jungle at night, only fell down on
a fishy port only, went up the long hills for a gazing out
at the hard moon riding full, at the pull of your hazy mornings coming in, only
walked the boardwalk about your bay, far below the tactile skyscrapers nest.
She let me deep inside, you I'm just stuck now on the fringe, she
a million little hugs and a snuggle I can't get over, she, a memory I can't
share now how we went back to where the dog howled, went back away
from your bright nights to another edge, went out
to a tougher shore where my heart froze, the many buzzing thoughts simply fell asleep, of
a body truly resting in the Atlantic deep.
Its the very thing the millionaires fight for, its
your bright avenues slicing up the green, its
the concrete hovels keeping out the heat, letting in the dark, my heart, its
the very way without her round I'm simply going jittery, mad, bonkers:
the opposite of sane?
I want a ship out of control, to slide strait up your slipshots, I want
to rain destruction from my puny mind, I want
to break in the many ways I sought the sunset with her I want
to recapture that restlessness of your shores.
For my heart shall forever meander down that walk, shall reside
always near the small piers, the peepers, the perfect weather, the way
the sun has that trick of rising on you that way, the
her hand fit snuggly into mine, as my hair dried.
Everything was perfect for just that subtle moment, and if
I hadn't lost my damn ID just that once I'd have had one more night with you there, one
more skinny dipped memory with her and around her, and one more happy day away, from this mess
and this sadness and the very thought of her so very much happy now without me.
Rich is only a metaphor for how a heart breaks, of where
my soul continues to go to weep.
My very soul, how it wishes there to be.
My subtle soul; how hard its simple subtle shell breaks.
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