Omaha - Jason Anderson

Let’s find our way out of here

Let us run from the sound of bars

Let us run from this sound of wooden chair legs scraping shining wooden floors

Let us run from lager taps, from little yellow plastic swords and the clink of

clinking glass

From florescent bulbs from lighters

Let’s find a place where we can be alone, let’s slip away

We can’t really talk here

And so much of what i want to say

You know

And i love that you know

And i love that i still feel compelled to say it

So let’s make it out together

Let us burst into this grim northern rain

It’s well past four in the morning

Let us fall into shattered alleyways

With broken brown orange light

And crooked slick wet brick

Let us run into black and then more black

And then hurdle a grand stone wall

Into sopping emerald fields

Chasing clouds and then catching them and then beating them

And a hundred thousand stars pricked out of nothing

Folding into dry caked sand

The sea and oily waves

Oily licorice waves

And grinning white caps

Collapse into me--oh my darling--collapse into my arms

And we’ll climb inside one sleeping bag

I would sit behind you

I would press mittened hands

Against your tingling ears

Against the beautiful bare of your shoulder

Where the scarf let it show, where the salt and moistness gleam

And our chests heave

And i would whisper

Soft and nice, soft and nice

We will never, ever, ever be alone again