She couldn't get the Brillo pad out of her throat
or the pictures of her family off the walls,
they just wouldn't come down;
but the lotion took the make-up off just fine.
He said, You're trouble. The good kind, like whiskey
and riding my bike like a dummy.
Sometimes things are just better left alone,
unless you're choking on the syllables and drinking
is the only thing preventing you from lying.
Soft, sweet memories have a way
of rearranging themselves, into confused little lines
and trying to keep them in order only scrambles them
worse until they are made of gibberish and I love you's.
So shake off the water droplets and watch them spray
into the breeze, they'll be gone in a second
because after love, even breathing you can't be sure of.