It is otherworldly what she says to me of me
I am so lost in the simple disillusion of relating
Of trying to do this finally
Busting my ass in the pits to encourage my dream of enjoying something fine with her
Fine in her
So all these things I am not doing, not playing, not writing, not saying, not making for myself or to sell or to give to them
May somehow be seen in my eyes as my walking dream leash leading me on
So much sits to do or be done
And this sits empty among all the promise
She sits among her promises
At times I am disgusted to have become so much of what I refuse to eat
But those eyes can't be shaken, and I can crawl on for one more meeting
One more sunrise and surprise
LOVE - Tristan
before || after
