And I could spend eternal night
tracing every single angel feather
etched into the magnificent body I adore.
Memorize your every detail
feeling your everything with my senses
and worshipping her grace and tattoos,
those road side souvenirs and rainy kisses
become the things we keep
as the past's pain falls away.
Yesterday's not remembered.
It wasn't worth the thoughts
and dissolves back to the nothingness
from which they emerge.
The white wolf rests her weary head on my lap
as we watch the falling stars in a patch
of rose hips and four leaf clovers.
To be in love is to be humbled;
to dissect the entire past with precision
and great expectations.
I never gave up hope,
but after so many years
your eyes play tricks on you.
What's close one minute
is instantly a thousand miles away
in the blink of an eye.
Your heros become nothing but fallen idols.
We are star-crossed stars of the dope show.
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