deepundergroundpoetry.com
Delicate Linings
Let's go somewhere far,
Somewhere where I'd hold you tight.
Hand in hand.
Wherever you'd like.
Whether train or plane.
An automobile or an boat.
Either way will be home in justification.
Journeying through each other's eyes, a different aspect of seeing things brand new.
A single step becoming wholesome
Just for the sake of getting up and getting out.
The feelings that dwell within
Escaping out.
Anywhere with you, to be perfectly honest.
Venturing abroad in living, breathing color.
Heads leaned against each other in excitement,
The comfort of toes covered in warm sand.
Sculpting each and every memory.
The sun becoming a spec in the horizon.
Exploring every wish, every dream we've found within reach.
The feel of every couch cushion.
Misplaced nickels, dimes.
Caressing the weight of weary legs.
A earth tone colored pattern.
The lobby of every room folded In the brochure of our heart.
All in the autobiography of us.
To live, to breathe in the essence of where the ocean sprays against the gleam of your shades.
The hull of yachts splashing against the oncoming waves.
The ripeness of fresh fruit served at local vendors hidden from the sun harvested by kind hands.
The only thing missing is a good pair of shoes.
Or perhaps lay here with you just a bit longer
Somewhere where I'd hold you tight.
Hand in hand.
Wherever you'd like.
Whether train or plane.
An automobile or an boat.
Either way will be home in justification.
Journeying through each other's eyes, a different aspect of seeing things brand new.
A single step becoming wholesome
Just for the sake of getting up and getting out.
The feelings that dwell within
Escaping out.
Anywhere with you, to be perfectly honest.
Venturing abroad in living, breathing color.
Heads leaned against each other in excitement,
The comfort of toes covered in warm sand.
Sculpting each and every memory.
The sun becoming a spec in the horizon.
Exploring every wish, every dream we've found within reach.
The feel of every couch cushion.
Misplaced nickels, dimes.
Caressing the weight of weary legs.
A earth tone colored pattern.
The lobby of every room folded In the brochure of our heart.
All in the autobiography of us.
To live, to breathe in the essence of where the ocean sprays against the gleam of your shades.
The hull of yachts splashing against the oncoming waves.
The ripeness of fresh fruit served at local vendors hidden from the sun harvested by kind hands.
The only thing missing is a good pair of shoes.
Or perhaps lay here with you just a bit longer
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