She made me a scarf. It was Ireland green France Fleur de lis blue Germany's sunset red. She worries about me like a treasure in her heart where I feel most at home, that will be lost someday.
I'm dead desert skulls listening for living calls to arms the second coming warriors hymns humming Eat the rich raise the dead take a Xanax and off to bed. In morning's light I blink in secret dream black ink.
The things we've been through, some were lies but mostly true. We drank our strangest brew, dreamed our lives, never knew tomorrow what madness grew what in love's trance we'd do.