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The Hill
by
Wilma Vritra
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The only picture I can paint is the one that I see Put you in frame, I'm out my frame, I'm runnin' out of speech The photograph of what we have begins to fade Teyana Taylor dancing naked in the rain Shower down, shower down and wash away mistakes But also know that strip the oils and that we'll likely break We go from brilliant to brittle, bone to gristle Home to riddle, glue to tape at Cash&Carry Got some flowers and I made you a meal, wrote you a song A bird with a word came and brought me a poem That was sealed with a kiss the gerth and shape of your lips I'm thinkin' 'bout the curve and shape of your hips As they swing when you sway, walk away from the rift Conversate in cherry red Converse You had yellow like some f**kin' mustard I had a dream that yours were f**kin' bloody 'Cause I was f**kin' bleeding Under a tree, and it was pouring like it used to be I climb into meet you, meet you But at last we, searching Too close to the light to see What we could be
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