i wonder if you've made love
the way you make love to me
i wonder if every word spoken
in black and white
was prepared and practiced
and written ahead of our time
i wonder if your love for me shall fade
upon the darkening of the lillies
when the seasons change
so be it if you will
but i'd rather remain alone
this beating box in my chest has
become but a cold center of a core
for every man to lay his hand
softly upon my right cheek
only to slap the left
for every man to say he has
never loved
never wanted
never desired
anyone as strongly as i
only to feel the same for her too
a good woman is always scorned
there's always a past to be ridden
so all the while
you dream of me coming
i'll be dreaming of running away