A Picture (1/2017)

Upside down she’s swinging.
Her ceiling is the sand
She’s lost, but she’s still singing
and I don’t know where to stand

Lately she’s been prowling.
I just sink on the bus
We’re under the same moon howling
Hundreds of miles separating us.

Are we still moving?
Are the signs still sliding by?
How do I tell the difference
between ‘goodbye’ and ‘goodnight’?

Old beginnings. Shedding layers.
She knows what she craves.
Says ‘you’re not crazy to care.’
Overwhelming me in waves.

She’s upside down
She’s on the prowl
It’s what she craves
She comes in waves