Someday


 

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Gwen & Gawie Fagan
Architects, House, Camps Bay, Cape Town

Tell me something. Tell me you love me. Tell me you’ve moved on. Tell me there’s no one but me. Tell me a lie. Tell me you want me to go away. Tell me that your fine without me. Tell me you need me. Tell me I’m a bastard. Tell me you don’t need me. Tell me the truth. Tell me that you’ve found some one else. Tell me that I’m the only one. Tell me you don’t want me in your life anymore. Tell me I’m your roots
but tell me something.

Let the Rain

I can’t and I won’t let lonesome longing devour me. 

I won’t see it through that life would be better if I were in your arms. life is now, life is not then.

Things are what they are, and they are without you.

Things have been what they have been, and will be what they will be. With or without you. 

Now, I let you go. I release my longing to the birds. I ease my mind, so eager for your love, leaving my own love behind. Relieving my burden and my ache. Letting it grow pale as a memory of time well spent, but time that has past. Not now, but then. Because your love is not now. Your love is ephemeral. The tide of your love has washed in and out, by the light of a crooked streetlamp. It has striped me down and left crimson and bones, taking with it my flesh and body. My soul remains. And my soul longs. But no more. Let my longing slip away. Let my attachment to the idea of you fade into obscurity. Let the rain. I love you Lorraine, but for me to live, I need to let you go until you go about wandering into my life again. Goodbye.  

Like thorns and wine

I long to talk with you. I long to gaze into your eyes. I long for your kisses and your sweet embrace. Your soft skin. Your scarlet veil. No one can soothe me like you do. No one can calm my worried mind. No one knows me like you do. Yes, I long for you my darling. I long, like thorns and wine, for you. 

"“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!”"

- Back to “on the road again”-take me

Squamish Squamish Squamish!

"Hey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you."