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 Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

I'm leaving some of me with you

Can you please hold me a minute longer?
And when you release me,
Will you grasp onto my heartstrings
So I can pull you along?
I don't need to be without you,
I fear it, really.
I never thought of you as a figure of beauty
Until you held me in that regard.
I don't want to lose what beauty you've presented in me,
You've produced me like a foreign film,
Hard to understand unless you were there
And spoke that fickle language.
I wish you'd hold me just a minute longer,
So I can leave a piece of me with you.

February 26, 2004

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