belong to me.
not the house that puts
a thousand miles between;
allows just a few hours seen,
of a cautiously passionate dream.
so i suggest the whisper of more hours to spare
is the only lie you need speak.

the bus ride home must be lonely.
be back in the arms of my sheets,
playing with the edges of my clothes,
with my heart's speed.

link your hands in a new home
and lock your eyes with mine
and throw away the key.
belong to me.