Urban Bedtime StoryI fell in love once, on a cloud,Urban Bedtime Story4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
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though in the East, they call it fog
and in the west, they call it smog,
but when you are in love, you call it anything really,
it doesn't matter much at all.
We ate food on a stick, not in a restaurant,
but in a park, by a lake, with trees and frogs,
singing of true nature and not being serenaded
by violins and bad singers, who pull at your sleeves
and try to get you to dance.
Minutes passed into hours, and hours turned into boats
that we paddled across the lake, arguing about how mustard
isn't appreciated as much as ketchup, though ketchup
goes better with everything, in my opinion, but it's not so much
the conversation-but the fact we could have such a conversation.
I knew then, I was in love.
You can tell when your heart starts racing,
like it's drumming feet against your chest, keeping time,
to a world full of music heard only in the mind, and
your palms get sweaty like it got 90 degrees outside.
I knew I was in love.
Yet sometimes we for