You walk me down by the river. We slow our pace to a rhythmic "one-two". And there is nothing but air between us and the sound of a wind-chime from a porch too far away to distinguish. The day is warm. The day is cool. Mr. Sky cannot decide if he wants to rain.
You wore your parka,
Just incase.
You say by textbook we are not compatible. But you know, we are not made of numbers. And I am overwhelmed with the peace you say because it gets into the deep, deep parts that have been parched for days.
God told you we were made for marching up hills.
The devil is a sick fiend who will eat us up if he can.
He will.
I have to remind myself silence is the sea I swim across to get to you.
But, I just need affirmation there is still a man behind the curtain.
Say you're coming out soon.
