MmmHmm - Flying Lotus

your music is haunting me
trailing my ears, like the last trace of the Los Angeles dusk
spinning through my head and taking me places imagined and concrete
pushing me through the moments

when I cried in bed with you on my birthday
because I was so fucked up that I could no longer play the happy girl
or
through rinsing your eye on my bathroom sink
after the black glitter had come peeling off my face
or
jazz dancing to a swing band
pretend sophistication punctuated by drugs
or
slumped in a golf cart to avoid you and stories of my spring break,
the question on everyones' lips that night
or
the Coachella rain
giving me the clarity to say what I had known
or
you lying on my lap on the fountain
as I tried desperately to be someone I could not

I dreamed of you last night, calm, serene,
until the memory of you became so volatile that I
woke up at five in the morning and wondered
when my day would really ever start.

it is easier to simply sleep on your shoulder than in a double bed
with high thread count sheets and perfect darkness and four pillows
where no one is holding my ribcage
and when my little dog trails her paw on my back
I think back to the last night we sat on a bench in north quad
and know
that its not nothing but its not something

I should have stayed. It was 3:30 in the morning and I just left you
kissing the hollow of your bicep first
partly to prove I could be cruel
but mostly
because I couldn't bear to find out what a real goodbye would look like.

now all I want is your freckly shoulders
and to run my fingers through your hair
and down to your collarbone
where I'll pay with your St. Andrews necklace until I have the courage to look into your eyes.