I wrote you a song that I’m not going to sing
I left it underneath an I’ll placed pile of books
I wished I had the tenacity to read
Conscience of my living dreams
Your lines weren’t the usual
Touched with crimson and blush
They were coastal clouds
Menacingly hovering about my mind
In layers that moved at different speeds
Palpable and tingling
But evanescence like words you’ve spoken
That I can no longer remember.
I did not rip the pages at each page break
I did not stain the script with tear drops
And I did not forget to sign my name
Though my heart was clearly laid
Unmistakable and unrestrained
No, it was your heart that was missing
Your heart that floated off
In an un-captain’d lorry
Beyond the breakers and off
Into a dark sea, no more.