Going to sleep with ease — for a few hours or forever — is only for those who never told a lie, been cynical, fought, never been false, or drunk.
Lying next to you, sleep never came easy. The truth was found deep down and warm in your loveliness. The rottenness of days, the hunger, the fury, the pain, and the sorrow were made bearable by the weight of your body falling on mine. Pull me down tight as I pull you down, roll me sideways into the path of the moon’s light stretching out through the window. Hold me in your arms, tighter still. Keep me here; let me feel whole.
I wait in a hundred rooms, in a dozen countries, looking through a thousand windows, imagining your face. Because in you, I have someone to cry for, live for, and love.
Come, let’s walk the shore. Feel the cold sand on our feet. We’ll wrap up against the thick, syrupy fog. Even Ben More, the guardian over the fells, the watcher over my youth, stands invisible behind the dampness of the morning’s drawn silk curtain. Let’s walk on the shore under grey skies that lack one idea to inspire me.
I used to work harder and faster and get more done. Looking back and reflecting on a year’s work, I’m forced to confront the obvious: Quantity doesn’t always equal quality. What does get done will have to be done a little better every day. I want to take the softness from between your sighs and bring music to your ears one more time and one more time again. You are my God in His heaven, and when I’m with you, everything begins.
I wonder when we met as if no meeting had ever happened.
My language was desperate, weak, a childish lingo when I wanted it to be strong.
I was a shy boy fighting the world. I made songs that spoke for my heart, for my wayward life, willing to walk away when complete and leave them to be what they would become. Then I would come home, kiss you, wrap you in my arms, and push a pillow beneath your head. We were on a journey into a love that would not be finished in our lifetimes — every tomorrow, unbought, ready for you and me alone.
