The sun comes to pin us in vacancy
In wind's superfluous fluidity,
We are leaves catching street without care
To some inexplicable command.
To be free on a reef without consequence
Where empty shells rattle out beat,
And sensations turn moments to pleasure
Like an illicit dream, to savor
The magnificent impotence of being,
Where sad faces remain unprosecuted
And the pink trees are like nothing ever seen,
And it's still a secret what makes us laugh and sigh.
Not a place, though, that I can stay
As the clouds of my home appear in the sky
And the people I know refuse to accept
That I can't name what I can't bear to see.
