always something in the way|
harvet moon. cassandra wilson. the chillout project. sisters of the sun - anton ramos.
because i'm still in love with you on this harvest moon..
i woke up to a frost today, not really a frost but it felt like one. i
woke up and stared at the minute-hand tic then toc.. tic then toc.. and
thought maybe i haven't really come awake maybe just maybe i'm having
an outofbody experience but whereto whereto whereto for this experience
shall we go to london then to have tea with the queen?
i've started to dream again. i have vivid dreams, you know? dreams that
don't feel like...
i worry. every day i worry.
i could be your watch tower, your light house;
you can be my prayer and i'll be okay.
now what do you do? nothing.
it's the most difficult thing [dear Lord, what number of times have i written this down]:
when you cry but know that your tears would would amount to little help
if none; when you're told the most excruciating of all the news you'd
ever heard in your life, or second perhaps, or even third, there is no
retreat but tears; no retreat but the keepsakes of your conversations
documented in your hard drive or your journals -- not missing anything
since day one -- page after page after even more pages in whatever tint
of ink you could squeeze out of a...
to touch you again with life in your hands
You wear the grainiest lips in my dreams -- thin yet firm; watermelon against a hazelnut brown mocha hue of brown; grainy and sweet like pear or a young, sour strawberry.
Strawberry daquiri, strawberry daquiri. A honeydew bowl is a bowlful of
cherries. I turn around and see you burning suns through my dress
breathing ice and the sweetest fire down my neck..
You say I
am your peephole, your peephole into the gray and black of the dusks
and nights, the black and blue of the nights and dawns -- your lazy
morning sunrise yawn. I say GovernmentWarning won't ever convince me