Runnin’ away from where I am
Trapped in the sand, waves against the shore, they said it’s not the ocean. Water is slight warm, not cold.
Ecstasy could not fade away unnoticed, but love slips. Unclaimed love, broken love, lies and ties, sip and guzzle.
My favorite place in the city is your bedroom. Corked wine, a firm mattress. Plant lying low, playing Solo.
Sadness is gifted, waves are overwhelming. They said it cloud and clear, Ontario lake, not an ocean.