something in the air
something about the way we move
- chase it -
something about the way we don't
- can it be this still? -
wrapped up in plaid and pushing up your glasses with nervous fingers
(shaking like loose tree limbs, left out in the wind too long)
and the sound of my eyes shifting from white tiled floors to the tick of your eyes across the room
we're not searching,
it's all nothing,
so why is it still beautiful
something about the way it could be,
if everything, everything, everything and a million things were different,
- time needs to be slower -
- if only my heart was faster -
- if only something meant anything -
still, it's all a little stardust to me,
sprinkling the room in magnified colors
something about the way it isn't
- it's a million miles away -
something about the way it won't
- still burns my soul to be here -
i like to pretend, over and over and over again,
that being in a presence like this will mean something
but it's all stardust filtered through wind-shaped fingers