I.
It started with a plucked guitar string
The moist emerald grass, so bittersweet
I melted into your shoulder as if I were older
And I actually knew of such intimate things

II.
Liquid heat mixed with dry, cracking thoughts
Twisted words pour into meanings and question marks
Miles apart in a dusty bed: It's lonely when Winter kisses Spring
But I threw myself back, engulfed by the sugary day

III.
Your voice cradled me like porcelain
It kept me locked in a wooden case of blind misery
And it couldn't be helped, I wept aloud
I still am not proud of how you've broken me

IV.
There is the sound of Reproach at my bedroom window...
I remember His scent-- interlocked in a ghostly caress
I am rubbed raw as the mirror thuds to the ground
The sickening plummet when Time and Carelessness toast to Fixation


V.
And all these little sighs that flash by: like a crowd through a train
Those things dissolve back to the cement's arid steam
These precious little infatuations are nothing more than an echo
Of perfectly balanced and absolutely neutral sentiments