there are places.
some of us can't face yet.
even when we see it.
we just swear gods sleepin'.
††††
its the taste, really. the awful softness of the sweetsound, as well. pass your hands over my face. let the shadow trace in places and fill in the others. we are alike, i suppose, but rather i'd not. i'd rather know no undertow saves the best and deepest for last and sheepish i lie and lay against the corners of the house id rather leave half built, than built in half. forget remembering, than remember forgetting.
Cliffs Along The Sea from Christian Sorensen Hansen on Vimeo.
