Commes des Enfant

Even though I have no idea what she is saying, I can't help but play this adorable little love song from Coeur de Pirate over and over and over and......

Secret Love

When you love someone you should tell them, right?
What’s the point of keeping that all inside,
Never sharing it with the only person you’d ever want to tell.
Walking around with this
Love burden on my heart
Makes me want to get in my car,
Drive to your door,
Shout it out from the street that
I love you!
What have I got to lose?
Aside from you and me and us and everything.
No, the loss is too great,
The risk is too much.
I’d rather secret love you forever than ever
Tell you the truth.
So I’ll whisper it now, scribble it on this paper,
Tell only my heart’s version of you—
A version that takes me in his arms,
Breathes in my hair and asks,
What were you waiting for?—
That I love you.
It just happened.
I really really love you.

Mr. Perfect, Found

I went on a date last night. He was absolutely perfect! Smart, funny, good-looking, witty, even smelled good. We talked for hours, smiling, drinking, casually touching arms now and then. He’s a med student with big plans to open a free clinic as soon as he’s licensed. He loves his mom and apple pie and outdoor concerts. We talked at length about literature and books and he wanted to know every detail of my silly quest to go back to school at age twenty-seven, making it seem much more important than it actually is. He maintained eye contact-—those beautiful baby blue eyes—-and never once let them wander to the much younger, much more drunk and cleavaged sorority girls that entered stage right about halfway through the night. He listened and asked and remembered and related. He got the door, paid the bill, walked me in and not once did he try to advance upon me, a perfect gentleman to the end. He is, in a word, perfect.

So why, if he’s so perfect, did I spend the whole night wondering what you were doing, when I’d get to hear your voice again, slip into your arms, forget all about Mr. Handsomedoctorperfect and just be me with you, you and me?

A Walk in the Park

I walked in the park today.
I saw couples and kids and dogs and bikes and
Summertime things that make me happy.
I thought about seeing these things with you
And it made me happy.
Come with me and I'll show you my park.
We'll lay in the grass and
Make up stories for all of the people
Who come and go.
Fast and slow.
And we'll be happy.



Photo: Photobucket

Lucky Sun

Stand in the light and
Let me see how the day
Clings to your body,
How the sun gets to rest
On your shoulders,
Making me burn with envy,
Making you seem to glow all the more.

Sometimes I wish I could just
Tell you about this heap of feelings
I have for you,
That I could somehow, without ruining us,
explain to you how everything--
eating, sleeping, dreaming--
is different with you.
Is warmer. Is richer. Is better.

I hate the sun for her ability to
Touch you so readily.
Without asking or pretending
To brush away a hair,
Or a string,
Or a bug,
Or my heart.