Septieme Ciel

(The Seventh Sky)

I knew you were kindred
bathing in your laughter
no judge
and no jury
this time persecution
happens only in the movies

You've made me your muse and
bought paintbrushes to prove it
although you said that
blue chimneys
were a poor excuse for a Picasso

I don't care about such things
and want to show you
a possible future
where all roads lead to Boston
and never ending champagne

In this place
I could tell you
of a seventh sky
where we could be peaceful
a place where
butterfly horizons
seem shallow and reckless

But somehow
Monday comes
Monday always comes
and the plane has been
waiting too long
Although I keep saying
I want to miss it
and stay with you
I go
every time
I go
and leave you standing
in the doorway
to the seventh sky.

.

.