Your eyelashes hold the tears
of a thousand men and womens sorrows,
you speak to the dead
and yet, and yet
you scream happiness.
you bite your tongue in the arch
of every conversation
afraid of twisting words through your teeth,
It's sunny outside baby,
wipe the dust off the window
with your green sweater,
green was never your colour
leave your house
breathe in freedom
and exhale the voices of the dead,
let them go home, baby,
stop holding on
Kiss me without the taste of dust
on your lips,
break the frozen grass with your bare feet,
Exhale the dead, baby.