One night in the middle of summer,
I was given my favorite dream.
And in it, I was her;
the girl you'd think about when you sing.
I woke up, glazed in melancholy-
in sparkle juice sheen.
And I touched your bracelet to my lip,
the one I stole right before we kissed,
and when our mouths swished
dreamy washing machine.
Cleaned our inner depths of psyche,
anointed with love poison-
unable keep the thoughts of longing, dry,
strong desires are the knife
that cuts the girl from your cloth
the one you think about when you sing,
the one I think you like.
So shredded and clean I bound my lips to you,
I didn't stop until dreams came to life.