making music on sunday

the sun comes through bent glass

and burns you

does it matter that we love one another

does the truth matter when it doesn't touch you

when i stood in the ocean

the waves stopped

the water got calm

tomorrow could well be far

or you could cross the street

and there you are

where it was cold

and the water ran

clean beneath the ice

keeping the stones

in the riverbed

chilled at

four degrees

we were best friends

time only passed inside

our heads and even there

the clockhands got stuck

in the places we liked

and if you weren't there

there would be no truth

so you are why

this moment is true

and why my thoughts

are all only ever small

fragments of anything

large enough to have meaning

when i speak it comes out the same

and from so faraway

Moi, j'avais jamais rien dit. Rien

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