See It Now
Tomorrow night I'll tell the story to Jen, who spent summer on trains with me and listened to everything that never really happened. Jen is a superheroine, just to tell you; she understands teeth in the mirror, shows me to wear scarves, reads literature, talks philosophy and in French, turns Rubik's cubes like nothing, knits sweet fuzzy disasters, rips up cords from Lacoste, writes poetry and changes underwear without taking off her pants. When I'm through telling her I'll telephone and then I don't know what will happen.
I can't wait, can't imagine, can't think what else I could do. Jen and I are there for the planning and the tickets. You and I are together for the asking and the affection. I'm all affections, in the sense of airs and acts and Pride and Prejudice pretenses (I read that on summer trains too). I think you see through them, see something I can't, saw it then and see it now. I think you told me you liked me since you found what I'm about, in those words, "since I found out what you're about". I think we share a wavelength and I think you'll look like Edward Murrow someday.
And I do believe it's true
That there are roads left in both of our shoes
But if the silence takes you,
Then I hope it takes me too
So, brown eyes, I'll hold you near
Because you're the only song I want to hear
A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere
- Death Cab For Cutie, "Soul Meets Body"