wet dreams

she’s the pickle of love… the affectionate wave…. yet she fits like a glove… when the road is fresh paved… when she’s off in a car… she wears a hat for the shade… she is just like a smile… at the side of the grave… with malicious intention… she pulls you down to the fire… when you’re starting to shiver… she fills your heart with desire… but you know that she’s gone… though it feels just the same… you never get to meet her… she left before you came… and you have to hold on… hold on tight for the ride… yes you have to hold on… or you will dry up inside… hold on to your dreams… they are all that you get… hold on to your dreams… or you just might forget… just who you are… or you may fade away… and when there is no one left… there is nothing to say.