Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Deux Ex Machina
A house by the lakeside
At the end of a bus ride
Winding through twilight
Your eyes in my hand
A hole in the sky
At the height of winter
You fell through it to lie
With your heart in my hand
A kick through the door
And overboard in an instant
I took it too far with
My home in your hand
I have no notion
No notion of people
Dying to be further away
Then killing themselves
in order to stay
Exactly
where
they
are.
Dedicated to L. aka G.
At the end of a bus ride
Winding through twilight
Your eyes in my hand
A hole in the sky
At the height of winter
You fell through it to lie
With your heart in my hand
A kick through the door
And overboard in an instant
I took it too far with
My home in your hand
I have no notion
No notion of people
Dying to be further away
Then killing themselves
in order to stay
Exactly
where
they
are.
Dedicated to L. aka G.
Labels: B.A.P.
¶ 3:25 PM
Comments:
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It's lovely, Sharon, though I don't quite understand all of it :)
Why do men race on like storm-driven waves? Who blows on them, what wind? The wind of their desires blows on them. But their desires are vain.
(Paul Klee's diary)
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Why do men race on like storm-driven waves? Who blows on them, what wind? The wind of their desires blows on them. But their desires are vain.
(Paul Klee's diary)
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