Thursday, 22 October 2009

Can my hand be held.

Out the pocket comes a palm full of hopes, lines carved defining the way he copes.
fancy watch on the wrist means doing better than feeling, the reaching hand gropes
honey to bee is a lovely way to describe her attraction, like something off the telly
his hand reaches out of a pocket that's sweaty. that's the pocket man not the palm
A jealous pocket has no lining it goes on forever. a home for one without a lover
a hand held out is the scariest thing ever a cold silence on the busiest street it is
goodbye prison, goodbye jacket, it's october and it's either gonna be real cold or...
and, sliding into first place in the life of this man comes this girl by a country mile
a connection that's perfect: gentle with a grip, a loving squeeze that brings a smile
science can't define love so don't expect any answers on how their hands fit like a glove.