Paint the Skies

So I’m back again

playing Zeppelin riffs

until my fingers bleed

but this time it’s different-

I’m rolled up in blue sky

clutching stars to give to you.

So you don’t believe in astrology

but why dance around me

in what would be a drunken rhythm

if you were truly intoxicated?

You say love isn’t for everyone

but then revert to semaphore,

the shuddering of your sobbing

confusing the signals.

Help me understand why

the words are tripping over themselves

to explain how undeserving you are,

yet you make rainbows from dark clouds,

splash colour where it didn’t exist,

paint the skies for ever more.