//I slipped in the salt water and hit my head on the Stockholm shore line//




//I slipped in the salt water and hit my head on the Stockholm shore line// london stories
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isolee
isolee With an impulse for the dramatic
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
I slipped in the salt water and hit my head on the Stockholm shore line - a poem for my travelling boyfriend

//I slipped in the salt water and hit my head on the Stockholm shore line//

I slipped in the salt water and hit my head on the Stockholm shore line

Raised myself up and saw us wading away with our jeans rolled high

Followed rivers in London and fished for dreams off a Lissabon pier

Baptised myself with tears in my beer and drank your toast with the silent dead

Baptised myself with tears in my beer and drank your toast with the silent dead Told them all about you at that funeral in Suburbia

Baptised myself with tears in my beer and drank your toast with the silent dead Told them all about you at that funeral in Suburbia and heard the wind whisper your goodbyes again and again as if leaves could talk

Yeah, I hallucinated closure in a tempel in Kyoto

Yeah, I hallucinated closure in a tempel in Kyoto Before you called me crying from a hotel in southern Thailand

Yeah, I hallucinated closure in a tempel in Kyoto Before you called me crying from a hotel in southern Thailand You wished me into that room in Hua Hin,

But wanted even more to be home in our two rooms in Neverland, Alwaysland

Land of pancakes and snores and sex and every day chores

I told you to book a flight, sat on our bed and wished you back

I told you to book a flight, sat on our bed and wished you back And when you came, I said; don't speak! Just listen

I told you to book a flight, sat on our bed and wished you back And when you came, I said; don't speak! Just listen And I read you a poem you said was too hopeful to be eulogy

But the Stockholm shore line's cold and empty

But the Stockholm shore line's cold and empty And the salt water there mixes with the sweet like sadness with beauty in a poem,

And although our bedroom sits safe upon land, we can hear the seagulls call for each other as if they don't trust the other not to disappear.

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