from by Zan Strumfeld

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We are too nervous to take off our clothes
Or sing songs that remind us of past lovers
Dancing in patterns
Only we can tell any rhythm of relapsing hearts
And the tangled words of pleasure
Caressing our skin

Such nonsense we hear kissing the mouths of foolish boys
Do we sleep alone or in tangled sheets of unwanted lovers?
And the scattered clothes on the floor stretched like a canvas
You and I, you and I in our rhythm
You and I
As we wait for the moon to arrive
We say goodbye

I will choose to forget our rhythm
But sometimes I think of the way your skin would mold into mine
And the tangled words of pleasure
You caressing my skin

But I dream of you putting on your clothes


from Patterns (EP), released January 1, 2012



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Zan Strumfeld

Winter folk for every season


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