When your ears fell behind my tongue I felt modern

With white walls that would ash more in winter

I overcame my addiction to pain

Or at least for a moment

I pine for your tinny hands that would sweat with a nerve I wish I could still believe in

Closed off as much as your eyes were when I first felt you in summer

On the grass while the ground dampened as the night lingered into dawn

Where have you gone with your lavender hair

Ignoring my neck of cheap cologne

Like birthmarks you scarred my skin anyway

We moved musically through the city until even our conversation became pattern based

Your legs collapsed on the sticky bus bench

Waiting for more time

You gave me a universe of constants that ignored my variable

A mathematical conundrum

A puzzle that was already in place

1,000 pieces

And now it hangs on my white walls

The only color I see these days

I don’t want to feel modern anymore

Joshua Tool – 01/24/2012


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