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So Hand me your Soul and your Love.

And I don’t believe in second chances
or quiet Sunday afternoons.

And I don’t believe in the record player, chipped,
in the corner of your scattered room.

And all of this, oh yes, this all
feels far away from me, from you.

Yet still I believe in honesty
like the girl in the loft with the musical words
that floated forth like whispers into the street-light spectrum
of another brink of night.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 

Comments

that you are speaking to the girl that got away. Just seems like the last line is too complicated; clever, but complicated. ~ Geezer.
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