Sometimes I think
That life is a pear
And I sit on the stem
With my speckled skin bare

Sometimes I think
that life bruises too fast,
How it's softened by things
That have already past

Sometimes I believe
I can quiet white noise
And muffle the clutter
That swallows up joys

Sometimes I pretend
That I'm going to die
That the airplane I'm in
Drops out of the sky

Sometimes I think of
Emergency lights,
How when all else goes out
Then the exit's still bright

            And sometimes I think
            Of my thin cotton shift
            Of the noise that it makes
            When I lean for a kiss.