in new york it's deep, far beneath
the black of your eyes
your face looks brighter now
when you light a cigarette
and i take away and give back that day
when i found the words to tell you
all i wanted you to know
you're the same, i change
when you stall and withdraw
and go elsewhere
somewhere it's not so cold
as us tonight
the distance is less, much less
when your hands reach mine
and everything gets warmer
one day i'll find the right words--
they'll be simple and separate
you'll know what i meant
when i said nothing
and too much
Sunday, October 4, 2009
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