Friday, April 13, 2012

Or Are We Painting in the Water

Time was a vapor on the hill
We were deaf, so we stood still
Was it day or was it dusk
We can't linger, but we must
And the wind blew through her hair

We are lost, yet I am found
Lost all will to look around
Transfixed by her solid eyes
A painful yearning makes me cry
And how the wind blew through her hair

Is it true that you will stay
Lost all need to run away
Or are we painting in the water
You are here, but then you saunter
All I see is golden hair

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