I wonder if you're loving someone else.
Before I remember
that you're no good at loving,
unless it's for yourself.

The light breaks in past a bamboo vine
and refracts into marvellous blue.
The air stands as still as the sun shines,
while the birds chirp their favourite tune.

I float to the top of the path and I sit,
carried by freshwater currents.
With air in my veins, I breathe in
and forget each, every one of my troubles.

My eyelids close like petals
moved on by the breeze.
I feel the light warm on my face;
although, I cannot see it.

Hair long and dark like a silken night,
her eyes glazed over, lips pastel silent.
Every so often sips a cold long island,
no jazz musician but her feet tap in time and
she's skin like China, won't crack even for a smile.
While people try to please her she will only check the time and
she's not a people pleaser for she'll bore within a while.
Perfume carried by the breeze,
she's freezing, smoking outside.
Her cheeks are apple red but her eyes, quitely tired.
She claims your jokes are dead and then she'll laugh like bitter cider-
a bittersweet pink lady brought to life beneath the night's limelight
the apple of the eye of every single man in sight

He'll ask her if she knows this song
and she replies 'no, not tonight.'
He'll ask if she enjoys herself.
Blankly, she says 'yes, quite.'

The room a-brim with deep jazz sounds:
she sings sweet melodies aloud,
she sways as if no one's around,
she sighs, it doesn't make a sound.

your footprint is still on my floor,
beer bottles stand still on my table
I won't ever see you again but
we rely on the kindness of strangers