I lost you between massive days,
Our tourist eyes always turn up in awe,
I find you in the night above the minster.
I’m swear I’m tripping cobblestones to reach you.
You said slow was your anthem,
so I turned the student bar still.
Sussed out, I told you “I don’t fear anything here”,
puffy eyed, strung out, jetlagging into another life.
I followed you through Mansion and Tokyo,
yelling for anything before the early 2000s,
you hum it all back to me in a takeaway line.
I hold you with distance, how they taught me at the academy.
I suppose this is love.
I’m watching your delirious dancing in the back of a club.
I wish this was love,
I’m an albatross of insomnia in a city of dreams.
You’re trailing my feet in the spring,
Rijksmuseum, stumbling up the canals, the photo markets.
Take every black and white of couples in love,
develop them in red wines, tidal wave along the Seine.
so suddenly, somewhere in the Frankfurt red light,
you crosscut travel shows on hostel TVs.
cut/copy language into search engines to understand me.
I can’t slow down anymore.
Hostel friends break bread, feast of love.
My morals feel like they root in the earth’s pull,
worry as I fall about, I whisper it all into the back of her mouth.
You shuffled yourself into a back-catalog last night,
I must’ve looked so gluey eyed, crumbly paper mache legs falling through back doors.
Woke as the drunks on the quad fell ring around the rosie, I chased your trains down.
you kept floating to the station ceiling, I held you ‘til you stopped shaking.
You watered my shoulder and you bloomed someone more golden that I thought I ever could.
I fell asleep against the city walls, the grass between my unclean hands.
“I’ll spend the summer wasting if we never have to leave.”
They never play slow anthems when you want them to,
so sway when the floor sinks under drum hits.
Move slower; I can’t touch you, but I want every detail.
Liquid courageous, I say I won’t lose you when this all blacks out.
released June 10, 2014
music by j. lapierre and t. gagnon
all rights reserved