Yours to hold, refrigerator pristine
I wave 'hello' in your dream
Yours like the chains of night,
Restless, shaking, birds in flight.

And will you want me now?
Now is gone, remember how
We would sit and stir
Those days like photographs in
Motion blur.

Yours to beg and yours to bleed,
Desires dipped and passions feed,
In this starving heart, an empty room
Unmoved like the mountain, silent as the tomb.