A story about me
bum dee dum, didum dee dum.
she was measuring things in the kitchen and i was sitting with a smile, listening to her patience. emily doesnt bake, but today she would…for her mother. over the dinn of oven racks and buttery pans i could almost hear the apprehension. i came to see and i saw her smile. i feel in love
one time, he and i were about to go to bed. we sat and talked for awhile, i was laying down and he was sitting against the wall facing me in his long underwear with no shirt on, he looked at me and said “i know what this needs…” (or something to that effect) and he reached for his guitar and sang the first song he wrote for me. i sat and i listened, and i fell in love.
what magnificent hands. i would like to ask him what he thought of god..what he thought of this…what he thought of trees and love and good french brie…we’d talk and walk and make fun of artists…jus’ cuz