something in the curls you keep
takes me back a few chapters
I am too willing, too willing
never once have I played anything
not a piano, not a game, not hard to get
not when it comes to girls like you
I have been foolish-young, hoodwinked
but I am waking up in your sheets
with eyes clear of old pain
we can wait and we can be friends
I am not in love, love relax
but I wanted to write for you
it seems like the least I can do
for the wine and the conversation
and the relief in my lungs
no, you are not a savior
but you are beautiful
and I can save myself
No comments:
Post a Comment