When we grow up,
I will let our daughter
cry herself to sleep.

That way she will never
need nor expect
for her father's or her stranger's arms
to hold her so that she can fall

gently, gently
asleep.

When we grew up
our daughter never
cried herself to sleep.

That way she never
needed, nor expected,
for her father's... for her mother's
womb to hold her
so that she could stay

gently...

gently...

asleep.

Our dreams were born in a coffin.
You made me promise
to always, always
dry her tears
if I could.