|
By juan d'fule Date: 2004 Nov 24 Comment on this Work [[2004.11.24.06.04.29305]] |
|
You say that it is Monday and here you are in your Internet Café Telling me you miss me now as you write me a letter Asking if I missed you, had I been waiting for you to write, I sleep under the stars by my painted pine mail box Arrested on the desk where my computer stands, I wait, My head is in the clouds like a giant, looking for the Sun, You believe I hang around awaiting your correspondence. That is such a lie as well a wonderful understatement It is like an Astronaut saying "One day I want to see the Stars" Or a Lion in its cage thinking "One more time the Gold savannah" You ask if I think of you, woman, how you tease You lie on your bed listening to music dreaming about us two, to Far away to be lying by your warmth beside myself with you Brushing your loose blonde locks away better to see your eyes Talking to you quietly then listening to every word you breathe Kissing first your eyelids searching slowly for your lips Inhaling the warm fragrance, your creamy white skin Touched by the fate that waits, the original sin, the gate To where I go and once gone, return, again and again Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday Trying to get some explanation for that missing piece of me Three hundred and sixty five days long as a lifetime I will catch up with you one day, one dream, Monday. |