he’s beautiful
every time I see a new picture
I want to live in it forever
I want to leap off the cliff
and glide into the valley
surrender to ocean current
let it carry me to uncertain sea
step off the platform
and be hit by the train

I just want that rush
injected straight into my heart
wake suddenly from the lonely dream
panting and gasping and grasping

and he is there
eyes, arms, flesh, blood, love, love, love

One night, while I waited for you
I sat in the midwest summer heat, hot and sticky
like juice from a sun-ripened peach-
a balcony in the city, a small temple amidst the headlights and occasional sweet, gasping breezes
the house was asleep, settling in its aged wooden bones
while I wrote you poetry on its back.

you never arrived, but I felt somehow better for it:
the warm and pulsing beauty of my silent night's watch.

My hands were stained with beetroot
My hands were sour with lemon
My hands were salt from cabbage
As I cried in your defence
"He would have kissed me on the steps
If I'd looked up, if I were not such a fool
The cue was there, you know
When he asked about my necklace."
I always wondered, so now
Where's this bold solution from?
And she said, were you a man
I wouldn't have to look.

Sometimes he let his eyes rest on hers, it needn't have been painful,
but it strangely was.
He broke a lifetime of avoiding eye contact to show her.
She was worth overcoming obstacles for.

When you go we don’t say much
We never kiss, we never touch
Your old dog begins to bark
He waits for you ‘till it gets dark
Like the lamp I’m burning low
If this is love, how would I know?

You chop the logs to warm the grate
Draw the bolt across the gate
Make sure the house is safe and sound
Life gets easier when you’re around
Like the lamp I’m burning low
If this is love, how would I know?

My life was hard, the going tough
The men in town  treated me rough
You smiled at me, told me you knew
The streets no place for a gal like you
Like the lamp I was burning low
Out on the streets, nowhere to go

There’s always a fire in your grate
You hurry home, you’re never late
With no demands, no price to pay
You come home early every day
The lamp is lit, it’s shining bright
I think its love, I feel tonight

When you go we don’t say much
We never kiss, we never touch
Your old dog begins to bark
He waits for you ‘till it gets dark
The lamp is lit it’s shining bright
Yes this is love I feel tonight

an August rich with wanting
in September my leaves changed colors
and I fell into madness.

our lips will never meet
nor our fingers intertwine
and so bless my dreams
for indulging what's not mine