Tell me in one word that you’re tired of it all

And I will stop everything all at once.

With the nod of my head–cats will not meow,

Rain will not fall,

Cuts will not scab,

Tears will not dry.

Oh, baby, with your pretty face–

Allow me morning breath lips

And eyebags I may slip into.

Baby, contort your pretty face

And become my gossamer,

Become my gossamer,

Become something solid, even–

Oh, baby, tell me you’re a poet

But a barista for the moment.

Tell me it’s only a matter of time

Before your words will mean something.

Oh, baby, pass through me.

Let it pass whenever.

Baby, oh, let it be felt.

In a stanza or in a text

Let it be felt.

Oh, dry eyes and goodbyes–

Let it be felt today.

Oh, baby, pretty your face

And dissolve

into me.