I got home and I cried
cause he made me spark
and a storm formed inside
the deepest crevices of my heart

And my throat
was a stream
of warm caramel
like a sweetly dripping dream
dripping down into a well

When I reached for his chest
I simply couldn't breath
for my body was in shock
but there was not even a heave
just a soft lullaby
of the sound of the stream
of my blood in my veins
and unstitching of seams

I'd touch his skin
While he'd sing like a guitar
with strings like butter
and a serrated harp

But even though I touched
he seemed so very far

I wanted to touch his soul
In that moment
In his car