Boats - David J

A saxophone plays on the radio

Smokey notes echo these feelings

Is this your happy face?

Is this your sad face?

It’s hard to tell

The magazine lies open on the floor

Your heart is a closed book

Give me Carte Blanche

To turn those pages

They’re not as heavy as they seem

Now we’re alone

The poolside is deserted

Four o’clock shadows have repaired to lonely rooms

The dumb waiters sing songs from the loveless hotel

It doesn’t have to be that way

Pay the piper and cull the tune

Light shimmers on the surface of a pale blue pool

Paper moon cut into pieces

And scattered here

I set these boats to sail

They float to your side

They are made from pages torn from my soul

Please except these gifts

For tomorrow we part

Tomorrow we part

Tomorrow we part

Tomorrow we part