Pink Plastic Pearls

are metamorphosing into something else

Thursday, January 04, 2007

Black

Sheets of empty canvas
Untouched sheets of clay
Were laid spread out before me
As her body once did
All five horizons
Revolved around her soul
As the earth to the sun
Now the air I tasted and breathed
Has taken a turn

So I see her dancing with her boyfriend, ya?


I wanted her once. Something didn’t happen. I remember the times I’d sung this song before. To myself. To the mirror. To maybe an imaginary audience who weren’t listening anyway. To her.

Ooh and all I taught her was everything
Ooh I know she gave me all that she wore
And now my bitter hands
Chafe beneath the clouds
Of what was everything
Oh the pictures have
All been washed in black
Tattooed everything

I see them now.
He’s like one of my closest friends. There isn’t a thing he couldn’t ask me for.
Some kind of contact dance. Hand-holding and twirling. Side step; deep gazing; twist; shake, scream, hold-and-bend, embrace, kiss...

I take a walk outside
I'm surrounded by
Some kids at play
I can feel their laughter
So why do I sear

We were sitting under this tree; Eucalyptus. If you’ve seen one, you know what I mean – tall, thin, white, the bark has engravings all over it – I pretended I didn’t want to sing it when I really did. It was night. No. It was morning. We talked. Today things are different.

Oh, and twisted thoughts that spin
Round my head
I'm spinning
Oh, I'm spinning
How quick the sun can, drop away...
And now my bitter hands
Cradle broken glass
Of what was everything
All the pictures had
All been washed in black
Tattooed everything
All the love gone bad
Turned my world to black
Tattooed all I see
All that I am
All I'll be...

An age has past. And I see her dancing. And I see them dancing. That’s something I couldn’t give her.
And you know what? I’m happy. It’s the closure I never got.

I know someday you'll have a beautiful life
I know you'll be a star
In somebody else's sky
But why
Why
Why can't it be
Why can't it be mine

The evening ends? I don’t know. But the words that play, Greenday albeit, are:
For what it’s worth, it was worth all the while.