We're both writers but,
why is it that we cannot
truly express what it is
we feel without the recommendation
of a movie reel-
We're both writers, so,
then why's it so difficult to row
through this murky sea
of dyed blue cotton-
-the softer things forgotten
between you and me.
Why have we not yet had our fill
maybe because we cannot still
we cannot put things into words
we're just translating notes we thought we heard
is truly absurd.
We're both writers but
we just cannot
say everything we should have said
we just have to put those things to bed,
Curl up close with that heavy weight.
Pretend it is not too late.
So every morning our mailboxes tote
another hastily written note-
or you let those things just float
and give me lyrics that someone else once wrote.