one day my ocean will drown you

one day you will drink honey

from my palms

you'll trust me with your tongue

you'll want me to speak for you

under white sheets
for hours there i'll hold you



i'm still not soothed.

your hands don't match

your body

i don't see a soul in you


you can be soft,

but you are a statue of gold

a skyscapper

that reaches only as far as the city

there's nothing here that soothes

you either