I picked up the rock like you asked me to
Put in my pocket to remind me of you
If I could load up these pockets with rocks and feel
Your fingertips, parted lips, our chastity unsealed
Then I’d wander around town with pebbles falling down
From torn pockets leaving clues
The crumbs left there no bird can declare
A permanent path, a map from me to you
When the last pebble drops to the ground
I’ll clear the land and set myself down
And I’ll wait in that spot till I see
Your face alight at our first sight
Our bodies embrace finally.