Accidents & Time

In this northern town we are getting old,
United by our love for John K. Samson
and our disdain for the cold
It's how you replied
clear avoidance, crooked lines.
When all I need is straighter answers
overtures and hope
You said

", believe in accidents and time
Promises, conversation and wine".
Yet the marks on your skin pulls me into the dark

The continents drifted further apart.
We were Mid-Atlantic swimming
divided islands, states of the art.
You were always bent on finding something else than this.
Oslo's awkward kinesis is always easy to dismiss

While I, I believe in accidents and time.
Broken trust and condescending lines.
Yet the light on your skin pulls me into the night

Where the black matter eats every line
And you tie them into knots
There, when daylight descends without rhyme
I was trying to disconnect the dots
And I was right on time

I've got words that could make you spin
And a box I put them in.
But we are right on time