love song
Ok, so I'm sitting on the far right side of a bench, next to an old man in a grey coat, and I'd just put my phone back in my pocket, and I check the time and realize that I have no pressing engagement for a while so I'm just sitting and I'm watching a crowd of people, for no reason except for the fact that my mind is wondering and drifting and, well, honestly, it drifts so far that I'm thinking of you. Funny, kind of, and unnecessary, because you're not here, but I wish you were.
I get up and start walking and there's a cold wind and its blowing through my hair and nipping at my nose and its dusk, now, and the sun is sinking into the horizon and the sky is orange and rust, with a few clouds dotting high above, and absolutely lovely and I'm thinking how it would be better if you were here. Feels lonely without you.
The sidewalk by the canal isn't at all that lonely, though. There's people loitering and walking everywhere around it. Really, its a happening place right now.
Its cooler by the canal, more so then up further in town. And I'm thinking about how I want to wrap my arms around you and be warmed by the length of you and, maybe, hell, if I'm feeling bold, kiss you, you know, dark and long. You'd taste so sweet. That taste runs through my veins and makes me smile.
You. I could drink a case of you and still be sober and whet for more.
The wind blows hard and cold again. I shiver and pull my coat tight. A couple walks passed me and I grin at their fortune.
I stop and lean against the rail along side the canal, thinking to myself about things that are and are not and, also, should be. I sigh, my breath smoking as it escapes into the cold air.
For some reason there's this jazz song playing in my head. Bass and jazz piano and horn and drums and guitar and everything. Seems like the right thing to be playing in my head right now.
Sometimes you don't ask why.
Like why I'm thinking of you. I shouldn't be, you know. Others- many others- should take your place in the thorn bush in my head. I go ahead and grin at that thought.
A fat cloud that lingers high above can't hold any more and begins to sprinkle a flurry of soft snow flakes to the ground and the powder that begins to form is a lovely sight and there is a group of kids that seem to be enjoying it more then I am, screaming with excitement and trying to catch the falling snow flakes in their hands and mouth. I remember the news saying that its supposed to snow heavy in the morning. There's already salt on the sidewalk. The lamps lining the canal have all begun to light up. Another couple walks passed as I leave the edge of the rail and walk into the growing darkness and ever present mobs and the growing swarm of snow flakes. Really, as I step deeper into darkness, all I can see through the white blinding snow that has suddenly rushed the city is couples heading down towards the canal.
I'm thinking of you, though I shouldn't.
The thought of you leaves a taste in my mouth that is so bitter and so sweet.
If you need me, I'll be at the bar.
I get up and start walking and there's a cold wind and its blowing through my hair and nipping at my nose and its dusk, now, and the sun is sinking into the horizon and the sky is orange and rust, with a few clouds dotting high above, and absolutely lovely and I'm thinking how it would be better if you were here. Feels lonely without you.
The sidewalk by the canal isn't at all that lonely, though. There's people loitering and walking everywhere around it. Really, its a happening place right now.
Its cooler by the canal, more so then up further in town. And I'm thinking about how I want to wrap my arms around you and be warmed by the length of you and, maybe, hell, if I'm feeling bold, kiss you, you know, dark and long. You'd taste so sweet. That taste runs through my veins and makes me smile.
You. I could drink a case of you and still be sober and whet for more.
The wind blows hard and cold again. I shiver and pull my coat tight. A couple walks passed me and I grin at their fortune.
I stop and lean against the rail along side the canal, thinking to myself about things that are and are not and, also, should be. I sigh, my breath smoking as it escapes into the cold air.
For some reason there's this jazz song playing in my head. Bass and jazz piano and horn and drums and guitar and everything. Seems like the right thing to be playing in my head right now.
Sometimes you don't ask why.
Like why I'm thinking of you. I shouldn't be, you know. Others- many others- should take your place in the thorn bush in my head. I go ahead and grin at that thought.
A fat cloud that lingers high above can't hold any more and begins to sprinkle a flurry of soft snow flakes to the ground and the powder that begins to form is a lovely sight and there is a group of kids that seem to be enjoying it more then I am, screaming with excitement and trying to catch the falling snow flakes in their hands and mouth. I remember the news saying that its supposed to snow heavy in the morning. There's already salt on the sidewalk. The lamps lining the canal have all begun to light up. Another couple walks passed as I leave the edge of the rail and walk into the growing darkness and ever present mobs and the growing swarm of snow flakes. Really, as I step deeper into darkness, all I can see through the white blinding snow that has suddenly rushed the city is couples heading down towards the canal.
I'm thinking of you, though I shouldn't.
The thought of you leaves a taste in my mouth that is so bitter and so sweet.
If you need me, I'll be at the bar.
posted by Chris Miles at 9:38 PM
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