Bom Bom
Bom Bom
Bom Bom
Do you hear that?

That's the sound of my heart beating.

Bom Bom
Bom Bom
Bom Bom
Do you hear that?
That's the sound of your heart beating.

It was first day of October. I was wearing my blue sweater,
You know the one I bought at Dillard's? The one with a
double-knitted hem and holes in the ends of the sleeves
that I could poke my thumbs through
when it was cold but I didn't feel like wearing gloves?
It was the same sweater you said made my eyes look
like reflections of the stars on the ocean.
You promised to love me forever that night. . .
and boy
did you
ever.

It was the first day of December this time. I was wearing
my blue sweater, you know the one I bought at Dillard's?
The one with a double-knitted hem and holes in the ends of the sleeves that I could poke my thumbs through when it was cold I
didn't feel like wearing gloves?
It was the same sweater you said made my eyes look like
reflections of the stars on the ocean.
I told you I was three weeks late.
You told me it was fate.
You promised to love me forever that night. . .
and boy
did you
ever!

It was the first day of May. I was wearing my blue sweater,
although this time the double-stitched hem was worn
and the strength of each thread tested as they were pulled
tight against my growing belly. You know one.
The same one I bought at Dillard's?
The one with holes in the ends of the sleeves that I
could poke my thumbs through when it was cold but
I didn't feel like wearing gloves?
It was the same sweater you said made my eyes look like
reflections of the stars on the ocean.

The SAME sweater you RIPPED off my body
as you shoved me to the floor,
calling me a *****,
telling me
you didn't love me
anymore.

Bom Bom
Bom Bom
Bom Bom
Do you hear that? That's the sound of my heart beating.

Bom Bom
Bom Bom
Bom Bom
Do you hear that? That's the sound of your heart beating.



Do you hear that? Of course you don't.
That's the silence of my womb because you
RIPPED OFF MY SWEATER.

are her sweet melodies her sighs to
conciensciences her breath raising hair on the back of your neck
her rhymes her yelling at your heart trying to
wake you from your sleepiness her
silky smooth cries in the dark her poetic
inspirations her life her sacrificing sanity
her melodic guitars her hymns her spirits so obviously
inspired by gods her nature her wisdom her her
not enough

Struck by lightning and I wonder if you are dreaming about me while you sleep, crisp white gown draped across your body, grey floors and pale blue walls, the hum of lights, soft flashes of red light, the ripple left by a still stream of drops, and all I can see is your rough unshaven face, and all I can think is do you dream about me while you sleep?

While I sleep you come to me in a dream, nothing but the wind carrying leaves through the park, I open my mouth to call your name, it felt like a wave crashing into my chest, not even a whisper could escape my lips, I stretched out my hand to touch you, you were so close but I couldn't move fast enough for you were gone, while I slept you left me in a dream.

While we sleep do we dream of the life we could have, the places we could roam to our feet grew sore, how many concerts we could have swayed at, how many children we could have named raised and sent to college, all of the nights we could have spent hand in hand by the fire, while we sleep do we dream about our life together?

While the city sleeps does it dream of its people, who will walk through the park, will they be in love, who will sit in the heaven kissing buildings, who will work till dinner, who will fight for their life in the building or someone give life, who counts the days bonded by Justice and steel, while the city sleeps what does it dream about it people?

But while the universe sleeps all I want to know is what will tomorrow dream?