High hill balcony
With an urban view,
Loss of common modernity during this
24-hour spree of fancy gowns, richness and tea.
Tinder talks disguised in
Perfumed letters and
Spring-stained velvet sheets.
So she doesn’t see,
But no more waiting behind the mall for me.
I wanna Uber to your mansion in the 19th century –
Horses, of course,
Carrying me for I’m a gentlemen in times when
High men took the high road
If they wanted love from him –
Someone with a status, but no fee.
I see them in the distance –
Your children sound asleep
In the global warming heat,
The ocean higher than it was
Before three weeks
Just like James, your kid.
It’s about time we bring in
Talks of your ex-wife in this
And everything she left behind –
A king-sized bed and an empty space,
Some shred tapestry and
A song that rang in my head
But not today when
I’m supposed to be the center of it.
You’re indifferent to this period,
But it’s building to a more proper scene.
And I don’t mind the isolation
If it’s like the one we’ve been practicing.
A Victorian day in LA –
A realer love with a sweeter depth
Show me how you do it on the Internet!
Just you and me, and her eventually
On a pretty mansion balcony.
How do kids sleep in this scorching heat?
As we go back in history
We only worry about true love and tea parties,
Throw troubles to the sea.
I’m finally more that digitally satisfied.
Modernity can step aside if
Now all we do is swipe love right…