Christine Fellows Lost Overtures
What's too true about those words that you knew
that you'd never right quite right.
What's too clear, too simple, too near,
makes you lay awake all night.
What's in the pace of a day.
Lost overtures.
Drag our feet around.
We long to be near.
Always aware of the spaces between us.
Lie still and listen to the hiss and the crackle.
Just like clockwork we decide
all these little known facts ring false.
Turn the light off. Go on home.
Absence serves you well.
What's in the pace of a day.
Lost overtures.
Drag our feet around.
We long to be near.
Always aware of the spaces between us.
Lie still and listen to the hiss and the crackle.
What's in the pace of a day.
We can't unwind.
Drag out feet around.
We can't decide.
Always aware of the spaces between us.
