This thing we have?
I’ve learned never to ask
“What are we”?
The truth is:
We’re nothing.
A little something in the evening
A soft hand on a hard place
A gentle caress of the face
Going nowhere. Nowhere to go.
This time I’m ok with that.
You don’t sing me songs, right any wrongs.
You just touch and go.
Ask me no questions
Tell me no lies
Our conversation is made up of sighs
Moans. Groans.
We’re on loan. Not alone.
I don’t look for hidden gems
I don’t dig at your soul.
It is what it is.
A little something. For a little while.
(C)Slumpless
