Friday, September 27, 2002

sometimes one little story provokes a few too many memories, a little too much wistfulness. i'm sorry i hoped. it'd be nice, just once, to not fail for a while longer.

* * *
we once walked out on the beach and once i almost touched your hand
oh, how i dreamed to finally say such things
then only to pretend

don't you know i'm thinking?
driving 4:05 past midnight
you know i miss you
ninth and ash on a tuesday night
i would write to you from museum mile
toast to you:
your whisper
your smile
up the stairs at the weatherford
a ghost each place i hide

i left you waiting
at the least could we be friends?
should have never started
ain't that the way it always ends?
on my life i'll try today
there's so much i've felt i should say but
even if your heart would listen i doubt i could explain

if you don't know, why'd you say so?
would you mean this please if it happens?
if you don’t know, why would you say so?
won’t you get your story straight
if you don’t know, honey, why'd you just say so?
'cause i need this now more than I ever did
if you don’t, well honey, then you don’t

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