Don't Let It Fade

Trace around her lips with his fingers, he tries to draw on a smile,

'Give it time. These scars are the stars that will show you the light.'

And now she's all he sees;

he stays awake to watch her breathe the unheard

melodies; the grace notes of her restless sleep.

Hold me now, don't let it fade away from here. It's so clear…

His tattered undershirt-a souvenir that she likes to breathe in.

She sighs-days doing nothing unconscious of time.

And now he's all she sees;

she stays awake to watch him breathe the unknown

poetry; sweet sonnets of how it should be.

And everybody might just have these same ideas--

these same plans--I suppose...

We've found a perfect niche:

where plastic meets perfect, kill substance for style...

But inside, we get burned by the fuel that we cannot deny.