Ten thousand more times I'll see you. From now until then. Regret is not a story I tell often. Inward and out I saw something in you like a cat on a fence against the cold moonlight. There in the night, I saw you. One thing I'll never forget is the way you looked against the shed. Into the dark you lead me. And through the evening, I fell.
Split went my mind. Wrecked to hell. Torn up sweetcandy magazines, ripped into miniature bits. Tossed out my curling rolls. Threw on some old shoes. Tied my hair back in attempts of looking pretty. Looked like shit, left anyways. Met you at the park again.
Frost stuck to the grass like summer's dew. I dressed in layers to keep warm. I don't know why, because to touch, you're like lava. Oh, our bodies full of thumping hearts and arteries, full of blood and muscles, they didn't need sweaters, nor mittens and scarves.
We could have loved each other like a sailor to a calm night. A silent, smooth, tidal-type, that only rocks the boat slightly.