Thursday, November 8, 2012

Wayward

I force myself towards the sun
In the light of it's rays I can think more clearly 
Clearly from you...
These past few days I've finished my work,
Slowly start to unwind 
In this house where old feelings are known
Kept inside us 
Like unwritten books or novels 
You fantasize...

In this house where old feelings are known
Trapped inside
Like the pale shine of your embrace 
From marble stone 
The eyes of Sunday...

Giver of light.... 

I force myself towards the sun...
Beating hearts, from your hand lay mine...
And my pulse on the other side... 
Somewhere in this patient wind 
The warmth solely exists 
When there's no proof of it... 

There's no proof. 

You shred a lot on a prayer 
And often the words make no sense 
But you feel better once you've said what you've say
And gone.

And there's no harm in it... 

There's no harm. 

Just to alleviate, that is all. 

You fantasize.

Alec Wildey - November 8, 2012
Written from a riff by Domenic Piscitelli 

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