No man,
Tells you his life tale over a cup of tea,
And a good solid book,
Or a beautiful painting,
It comes out,
As he's lacing his boots up at 6am,
Hickeys and bite marks on his left shoulder,
His cologne still fresh on the mangled sheets,
He forgets your name a couple times,
As he's babbling about his past,
About the time,
His momma dropped him off on the first day of middle school,
And never came back,
Packed her **** and left,
Headed west he said he believed,
Leaning back against the pillows,
Letting go of the built up air in my lungs,
I closed my eyes,
As he whispered thanks for the fun dear,