For Other Ways

Pack your smallest bag tight with only things worth holding going somewhere you can be in love somewhere you can be lost because the world is too big to have every idea of who you are and every inclination of where It's mystery once you realize why Don't hold close unless cold handed with warm breasts—lips bury me in winter Quickly things that go away go away like they always have and these that stay go moving on and onward, on other roads with you and I close behind We've left our winter clothes for better days than these and ours we've headed north, you see Promise me soon of something sweet with soft hands, holding nothing besides In beds just big enough for two we lay, we part for other ways