Golden Gate

I stood on the bridge and waited peeking over the edge beyond my white shoes and clattering kneecaps,

I think I should be falling now and of the long way down,

now I’m sitting by the windowsill as she sits beside me,

My hands run through her honey-colored locks,

while the scent of lavender fills my lungs and i wonder,

"why do I do this for you," and she replies, "don't stop I'm in love,"

but did you mean the feeling or me because I'm standing at the edge,

wondering if the truth of us is enough to keep me from falling into you,

and I know that maybe you'll hold me close but it won't be for love nor hope,

it will be for lips pressed to lips and chest to chest and kiss to hips,

while our chests heave and we execute the dance of death without the eternal sleeping,

still I won't cry for you and you won't stop me from leaving,

but I left orchids at your doorstep because deep within my bones,

I know I shouldn't care if you leave but I want too