waiting.

Love is no big deal, it's the falling we feel. From a second story window tonight, I consider the act of falling before I admire your reflection in the pane, admiration mixed two parts with pain. As I descend the stairs, and back down to earth, I imagine I am falling from grace, ugly, stupid and alone --- you continue to dance with our friends and again I go unnoticed. A double mixture of liquor and water. I start conversation. I spark admiration. But my mind is on you and you alone tonight, an injured bird needing a nest -- a place to rest my head --- to transcend a comfort zone and become tangible. To really fucking feel something...summer make good: hoping for something to change your mind. Summer make good: and in this time I will see that this is all that we have. Summer make good: but there is something in your eyes that tells me that this is the life for me. Summer make good for me. Please. Rearrange us.