Spinning round a windy ledge,
i kiss the cross around my neck,
these fever dreams replace the likes of you.

Grinning into space, alone and lost,
the dampened linens lie,
     as i wake up,
     covered in fake love.

In my den the china white,
embraced my blood and laced my night,
an amuse-bouche of courses left to come.

The past three years I can't recall,
coulda been fun, but was it worth it all,
i'm a coma patient lacking an excuse.

Truth,
is hard to come by,
You,
are a stranger in my,
Eyes,
collude disguise.

I long for you in the way the night
struggles to envelop the Earth daily,
in the ways in which I fear
my words will never be enough
for your crystalline heart.
I want to fall like raindrops
into your hair on Sunday morning,
when it is time for me to go,
and there are clouds in your eyes.
I have prayed for you eternally;
hold me close and I'll wrap you
into me as the daylight fades to dark.
Let us never know another lonesome night,
not until we are old and frail
and content with the life we have lived.

let me tell you all about driving the back roads of the south
gravel keeping tight while rubber runs at about 95
and father john misty is musing over emma dearest
there's even a town called riverside
with the prettiest tides
setting off fireworks every time i'm headed back home
do you think they do it for us?

this is irrational. in mathematics, the human reasoning - there will always be some sort of radical fallacy shoved into the equation. you. you sir, are what i call irrational. i can't lie when i say that i'm quite fond over how tall you stand, like a mountain. like a king. you don't rule the valleys and praries of your people, but you've found power along capalliries and veins. this box jutting irregularly in my chest is what you rule. i could construct motes and bridges and stone castle walls to keep you from getting in, but i can't deny i've always wanted to be a queen. your queen. i've never wanted so badly to rule your world. to take the throne and call you mine.