The Golden Notebook.

the purple sun cannot stop the train of thoughts.

and, i write in crumpled letters about all the
shattered reveries you bring me
suddenly in between lectures.
in word doodles i create a you i want.
in word doodles i create a world i need.
perfection, my love, perfection!

but you're just a little boy. only a little boy feverishly in love.
you'll lose yourself in textbooks. in a computer game.
in a moonlit night. in monsoon.
in a chocolate fantasy-conversation we couldn't initiate.
you'll lose yourself in the words i gift you.
in lovesongs. in the sepia of the lake.
oh little boy! you cannot be a man so soon.
and your mother thinks you're too young to have a lover.
she's ignorant that way.

oh silly little boy! i've been bruised before.
and it hurts nomore.
i've cried before. now i just have tired eyes.
and celebrate my inability to dream.

but you're just a little boy. with a childish half-smile.
and a naive twinkle in your eyes.
you won't understand.

you won't understand the tears that don't show.
the words that i don't utter. the silence that speaks far too much.
you won't understand how i need to run away sometimes.

but you lose yourself. you're too young to be a man.
and in your tiny blue satchel you carry your world,
too small for me to fit in?
your music keeps me sane yes.
strumming life back into me. life tiptoeing back.
silence isn't deafening. the tunes in my head make sense.

you have a magic, little boy! and i like
how your blue sky wraps me up.. how the dreams
turn a little sepia and dissolve.
but you're only just a little boy and you won't understand.
you won't understand.