It will never be simple,
Stripped down to the bone
and dry
Summers child is playing a trick on me; withering
Tickling the grass beneath me and taunting my thigh

Apparently far from the truth, miles out of my mind
In a glorified trance I feel him
Now unravelling
Slowly shaking the sunburnt ground

The breeze selects his way to run across me
And it feels good most of the time.
A fondness you shall never see
And one I shall never speak

Of course it’s just me,
A tasteless dummy.
Too passionate about you
To make the world believe in such a little star
Knotting them up with my finger pointing to the sky

And then when I’m tired
I dream of it,
I vision and shut my eyes
Tight

07/16/2005

Posted on 07/16/2005
Copyright © 2024 Sam Roberts