Bruise

Devoid of parameter

                                   I'm crossing my i's and dotting my t's 

                                   when and how I please.

Thoroughly indicative of another day time terror

I watch her like she's                   fragile                      and

losing hope in my half-way house dream.

I'll never be quite right. 

She breathes in another language

and my heartbeat can't keep up.

Lightning is striking

                                        the sand                                   in my hand                                 and

its burning like someone forgot me. 

She turns the oceans into possibility, wrapped up in the snow. 

She knows where to go.

I'm trying to keep up, but I'll run out of gasoline on the highway when she kisses like a beauty queen and laughs like the  fourth of December. 

Feather dusters keep the pace and scar her face

                                       she's found disgrace

 in me.

In leaning over wrecking balls, and manipulating the moonshine glow, she's made her mark out of the dark.

I'll never know beauty in Arabia

but tomorrow, we'll run away.