you call me by the name of your finest art piece
when they turn off the light from tour d'eiffel
but i am your mother's dead begonias
we stray in gloomy hours
looking for a hand to hold
when we only want each other's
yesterday's sheets are soaked in despair
dripping from your ear
the one without the earring
your golden locks keep it a secret
time doesn't exist anymore
you painted my organs yellow with your lullaby of lies
at least you don't know my name
when i'm not with you

*(k.w)