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Tom Waters USA (gone) we're sitting on barstools & you're wearing pin stripe pants i'm drinking cognac it's a mating dance (and you're gone) we're making dinner together & talking about our day your hands tousle my hair & i kiss the back of your neck (and you're gone) we're tangled up on the couch arguing lazily & watching blondes on tv forgetting what the fight was about leafing through magazines (and you're gone) you're showing up at work to give me cologne wearing a bright orange jacket snow coming down in sheets pressed so close against me that i don't want to breathe (and you're gone) i'm giving you a poem that you read with a smile fold up & tuck away in your little black purse (and you're gone) i'm bringing you flowers dropping them on the table hiding your jewelry before slipping into the bath the smell of cookies filling the kitchen (and you're gone) we wake up together (you're gone) holding hands (goodbye) my leg craned over your hip like a grasshopper (don't leave me) starting off our sunday routine (please) i'm groaning as you work out the pain from a lifetime of struggling kneading away years of awful posturing telling me to keep breathing you get ready to leave hair bunched up in curlers fluttering in front of your mirrors applying lotions and perfumes while i watch tapping my toes 'don't rush me', you whisper you're sleeping upstairs & the song on the stereo says 'this one's gonna hurt like hell' i feel a quick, cold sting & try to fall asleep alone and you're gone.
Copyright, Tom Waters. |