deepundergroundpoetry.com

Brushes With Love

We were like two tumbleweeds tumbling down a lonely street
Interlocked in a waltz, the wind providing the beat
We would separate on the high notes only to interlock again
Our every decision is being controlled by the wind

Watched from afar by a hobo in the back of a boxcar
He's watching a dance billed as the greatest of lover's spar
The way that we come together on a low note
Interlocked, the wind holds us in the air, as we spin and floats

But as we rolled along bouncing off of each other's words
Even when we were separated, the music still could be heard
There was that magnetic force built into the music that always returned you to me
That was until I missed a step and suddenly went off key

Lifted into the air, torn apart as we spun
The music had changed telling the Hobo that the drama had begun
The music became dark with each tumbleweed on their side of the street
You were leaving bits of you, and I was leaving bits of me

The Hobo was sadden, but he was curious about the finale
Would we rendezvous at a desert oasis or the darkness of an alley
Maybe we would bounce off of the horse's hitches and store fronts
Going our separate ways in search of separate wants

Would I regain that step returning the magnetism to our music
Could this waltz be eternal simply by me agreeing not to abuse it
On our ways across the plains, I change steps entering your lane
While waltzing on the shores of an oasis, we took root in our very first rain

 
I_IS_ME
Written by I_IS_ME
Published
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