With your absent state burning into my mind.
You’re porcelain face
You’re modern times.
I look back into space.

You’re ghostly voice that floats through rocks
And I’m begging consistently please don’t stop.
Something comparable to the love of Yoko and John
However not baring a** to the world yet, I could speak to soon.

Who may I ask does exist in the eternity of receiving you’re ruby kiss?
And who including myself does envy such bliss
That of being relevant to any of this?
In your moon tinged face I am tantalized, by the glow the spark of your fiery hazel eyes.
Those I wish indeed to walk by, in that stolen moment across a twinkling night sky.

Flustered discontent.
I can't live to standards generated in a distant fierce land.
I can't cling to the relief of you’re warm safe hand.
I can't open you up and make you understand.
I can only speak to you straight up and pretend that I can.
You’re longing for the company of your distant friends, and I cannot be them.