We don’t need to make vows,
To be held and to hold.
To be young and be old.
My gut tells me fate’s star crossed.
My heart tells me to die on the cross.
My head is ready,
For the eventual loss.
I am born in the blood,
Of a sacrificed youth.
Wouldn’t this all be easier,
If we could just tell the truth?
But that heavenly hum,
Against my ear,
With my head on your chest,
I couldn’t care.
Suspended like crossed stars in the sky.
For a moment be here.
For the night be mine.