We post secrets onto paper airplanes
Saturday, August 2nd, 2008It wakes me up again, it is a question that will not answer itself. You mark a black X on my hand and tell me it must mean something. In a better world there are longer, greater distances, there is wilderness and anarchy. I want to kiss you in a riot, slip a piece of rubble into your pocket. When we meet, I think you are dancing, but no, you are in the middle standing still. I bring you to a rooftop, we spot what stars the city lets us see. We plan an escape, complicated and unlikely, give it every chance to fail. We post secrets onto paper airplanes, wishes that must never come true.
