Riding home
the September sun cool breeze upon my shoulders
Riding home
from the park
the sun still glistens in my eye
If you were here
I could take you in my arms
rest there, just rest there
at the end of a slow moving Sunday
its not 10 just yet
my bathing suits dry, ready to be picked up
If you were here
I could whisper sweet nothings
and drink you in
much like fine wine
much like the perfect ending for a perfect day
but you are not here
I can only imagine it
imagine it
like the sea lapping upon the shore
like the wind taking off on my scarf
just imagining it
and that image makes me happy.
Tuesday, 18 September 2012
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