TRUST
joewig
Ain’t love something? Don’t it make the sun shine a little brighter and ain’t the moon a bit bigger at night? Ain’t there more stars up there in the sky? Surely there wasn’t that many stars up there last month. Don’t it make flowers smell more perfumey? Don’t it make your eggs taste a little better in the morning? Don’t love make you feel all swimmy-headed, like you’re walking on the moon? Don’t it?
But when love starts to fade, when it becomes thin and pale as old curtains, what then? When you look at a person and you don’t see what you seen there before, what then? Ain’t the sun still the sun? How can it be less bright? How can the moon shrink and all them stars, how do they disappear? How do eggs lose their taste? It don’t make sense. How do you go from swimmy-headed to cement-headed? How?
Oh, it’s something, love, it’s surely something. I just don’t know what exactly.
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