There's a manner in which you breathe
Or maybe a manner in which I perceive
When your chest picks up the covers
In harmony with the way your eye lids hover
That robs me of my own sweet and steady breath

I can always hear your heart pick up a beat
Like it's roaring defeat
When I rest my head on your chest

And I never fall short of noticing the small curls of your hair
Dangling above your eyes, moving well with the air

They wouldn't believe me if I told them
And I know you wouldn't condemn
But there isn't a moment in the day
When the light doesn't hit you at a perfect angle
And it makes my brain mangle

I love the way you love to touch my face
And give my scars a trace
Even though it rips me apart
To hear the crack in your voice
When you say it breaks your heart

"You are a beautiful piece of art"

Sometimes I wish you could stay
But I know you must always stray
You're not one to get too comfortable
And you prefer to remain untouchable

**But would it be alright
If inside your chest, I pitched a tent?
See I fear my fingers may blister
(I'm willing to pay rent)
Just for the winter?