I can feel your eyes scraping at my collarbone,
greedily moving downward to your self-proclaimed
property that was once under my name,
but I gave the deed to you quite some time ago
and you have allowed me to room inside yours
in exchange for the trouble.
In fact, I have found the beating so comforting
that I was wondering if perhaps I could move in.
They say the pulse sounds something similar
to lub-dub-lub-dub-lub-dub,
but I like to believe it's your own language
that secretly says I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you.