you're on my mind
let me lend you my shadows
let me give you the crannies to sit in a while
and contemplate this kind space called life
because i don't mind the layers that you made on top of my skin;
they kept me a special kind of warm.
I can still feel you from here.

Let that whisper reach you through the depths of my ribs
they rub together like the horse hairs played on a violin
so coarse and yet so finely tuned.
let it lay across them until we pluck the plainest melody that
we have yet to hear because we are too young.

It takes 200 strings to make a proper bow. A violin is a genius saw;
It cuts kind of deep, stroking until we shiver into sleep.