deepundergroundpoetry.com
When the Cows Come Home
He calls me
Thunderstorms and
Tells me I'm what the
Night does to the day.
Whatever that means.
Relativity is relative,
We only die in dreams.
Our perceptions
Are out of context.
Whatever that means.
He asked if he could read
The lace of my hem,
Then told me that
I wore this dress just for him.
I've got a funeral to go to.
The hands of the clock
Spin retrograde
In the mirror.
I'll be back before the aphelion.
I've got a funeral to go to.
He told me that if I
Ever let another lover
Romance me from behind
It will be my last tango.
I'm much too young.
Some days d r a g like my body
Across the hardwood
When he has my hair.
There will be a funeral to go to,
But I'm much too young.
Thunderstorms and
Tells me I'm what the
Night does to the day.
Whatever that means.
Relativity is relative,
We only die in dreams.
Our perceptions
Are out of context.
Whatever that means.
He asked if he could read
The lace of my hem,
Then told me that
I wore this dress just for him.
I've got a funeral to go to.
The hands of the clock
Spin retrograde
In the mirror.
I'll be back before the aphelion.
I've got a funeral to go to.
He told me that if I
Ever let another lover
Romance me from behind
It will be my last tango.
I'm much too young.
Some days d r a g like my body
Across the hardwood
When he has my hair.
There will be a funeral to go to,
But I'm much too young.
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