It’s not that serious
They said just like
Empty sex in hotels
The same way actors
Make you feel
As if the kiss is
Meaningful or real
Lingering eye contact
Something superficial
Hiding behind the truth
Slowly becoming actual
Watch your step
In the future
Be forewarned
As crooked as things can get
It won’t turn out the way
You’re expecting
No blinking red lights
I believe that
We’re all still made of stardust
In the end
Which begs the question
Do we belong to ourselves
Or to the stars?
No vacancy
Preservation is expensive
You know
We could just start over
Demolish everything
Make a clean slate of it
Are we maintaining our innocence?
Does the melody
To remain the same neigh
Or does the sound
Of our change bray?
We hold in our hands the
Answer to a question
As delicate as the motel
That is crumbling
Down the way
There are people inside it
Maybe the activity is
Too arduous for saving ourselves
Collecting every piece
One tile of the roof at a time
We could hold onto it all
Or we could just start over
© GÄ
Poétique 