In the Brine

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In the brine I rest until the blossom
We mapped a timeline off a thought 
And on the swing you flow back and forth
You're close and then you're far away
You're close and then you're far away
I like to watch you coming

The glory of the dirt never dies
It settles at the bottom of the brine
And my body my vessel in which I ride
Concocts with new meat
The juice dries on my teeth
And she loves me through plastic as her lovers favorite tree blooms in spring
And we wander through forests set for wandering

I hope to find that map I drew
And see my way back to you
Tempted by the shine of something new
While desire craves to see us through
I recall our bodies form a perfect mold
Two bodies form a perfect mold

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