She'd like to have a mark and hit it
with more promises, less broken nights.
But would she be welcome if she did it?
Perhaps she'll know if reality bites.
Now certain's not on her agenda,
more probables, some ' if only' thoughts.
So let's wait and see what's there tomorrow,
not feeling whole and yet she's caught,
balanced on the airy stilts of abstract
dare you take her by the hand?
She's down and fettered to the now.
Sinking fast in no mans land.
Will you go to her when she's dreamless?
Oh then she'll fight, to make you real.
It's cold in here bereft of meaning
massage her want, help her heal.
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