We eat in each other’s palm
Like the gulls in the Old port
Who like to think they can fend for themselves
But who give up from time to time
We find ourselves in the mall
We desire as much as always
We can wander but we still know
There’s something missing in us
So we wander the parking lots
To try and waste some time
The heart stuffed in a back pack
There’s still snow in the Park
We look at each other as we leave
Maybe we’ll meet again
Summer will come, and your birthday with it
Golden hour on Chicout