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I can tell myself to rest,
you'll put your head on my chest
and we'll smell like sun, and taste like a long day done
and lately i have no qualms about sleep.
i meet you sometimes in the deep
where the roads are long, and our words - they play like songs.
set it on fire, throw it against a wall
you look at me, see a girl seeing nothing that
you see, at all, and
i think i know what it is that you miss
someone to hold and someone to kiss
but i'm not convinced that has anything to do with me.
butterflies are foreign things to me,
my stomach's full of vegetables and tea,
but my arms are strong, and our
half-love creeps along