dried up leaves
to build a fire,
dried up sticks to float downstream
oars rotted, wood takes on water
when the rowboat comes,
i will take it down,
i will take it down
paintings
hanging on the wall,
dripping red and yellow.
a smile emerges from the canvas,
flowers laugh and toast to permanence.
i will take them down,
i will take them down.
hmm hmm lala’s
like the sound
of your voice,
like a bridge that has a choice,
are you west to east or east to west?
damn, which direction to cross is best?
when there are flames on both sides,
when there is love on both sides?
so now will you
follow me down?
it’s way too dark where you are.
brightness has the upper hand,
this hand is beckoning.