Listen to me, and listen close. This is a story hidden between trees and their branches, between ghostscapes and human fingertips, between innocence lost and innocence found.
Listen to me and simply listen. Clear your mind of that maiden's kiss and the way your gentleman-to-be stroked your cheek, of that crack in your vase and your broken doorbell. Think white. Think grey. Think nothing. Think seashell air and foam kisses. Think sound, sound caught in leaves, leaves caught in earth, earth caught in spinning.
See beauty and see elegance and see the way the sky wrinkles like your palm--the way your lifelines run like the birds. See the pale white of eggshells and the harsh green of age-old trees that whisper in roars. See wardrobes and see windows and see attic doors--portals that exist solely because you believe them to.
Leaving is a beautiful thing. Do it delicately. Ripple. Leave with jade bracelets and amber eyes; with silver skin and seaweed hair. Leave and give your voice to the wind.
Over London windows, English roads tinted blue. Floating on makeshift newspaper wings, tangerine lips and your picture in mirrors. They wink at you. They remember you.
Summer seastorms and earthen angels. Backwards veins and white pianos. Raindrops, sea stops.
Don't forget me.
No, don't forget this feeling
written listening to this YouTube. i know it's not very good and doesn't make a lot of sense, but i've got these pictures in my head, pictures that this song express so beautifully--so i had to write =].