The Made Up Concept of Innocence

Lay in bed and cry my tears
never hold a a little hand in mine
and be one and sleep dreams of pinecone covered
forest floors and snowstorms spent inside with tea

Backroad drives with red, orange, brown, and yellow
sub zero temperatures, water bubbles its last words
Silly laugh and silly smile
I could listen to you till the end of time

Bounce across the room today
And wake up in my arms tomorrow
as the wind sings its breathy song
and rattles the day old shingles

Hopeless romantic and battered words
Lies of innocence and self-denial
living in your bubble
cause you don’t want to confront
the imperfections of God