gallagherm
You hold out your hands
And they reach out,
Create shade, cascade in a blossoming cloud
You are my branches.
Your face is in my mind
and for once these words feel right
and your face is in the time
that we wished we would memorize
and the face, turns the paint
on the walls, darkl and grey
and your face
is a blaze in the model of our days
The mountain water runs down your thighs
And into our eyes
As we scrape our knees
On the water trees
And flick the weeds
Into the water, we run , we fly,
We splash.
And I fall
From these great heights
And I fell from dirty skies
And i fell,
Into the arms of the bitter catcher
The catcher and the cry.
And these battle scars
Are due to these broken hearts
That have us drifting
Right in front of moving cars.
What I said was in your head
and God a miss you,
Drifting back into my bed.
Beauty and pride
In these mother's eyes
Voyeurs, enjoyers
of this pageantry