Cause I can dish it out, but I can’t take it.
Maybe it was the sound of your voice – or the telephone wires that made me miss you so much.
Or I suppose maybe it was the words you fed to me that had been resting on your tongue for far too long.
Or I guess it was just because I was alone again and loneliness is a disease I can’t cure by myself.
I’m in love with the mere fucking thought of being in love again.
Maybe it was really just that I love the way
Your words wrap
Around your lips
And somehow manage to wrap themselves around my ears as well, despite a distracted correspondence through shitty telephone lines.
1 comment:
i remember when talking through the phone entitled being in love with one another.
that feeling kicked ass.
words that meant nothing at all, but would eventually lead to being comfortable enough with each other to start making love pokes.
being in love with falling in love.
now there's a fucking pickle.
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