come friend, allow your hand to brush me
brush this off of me
not all of it but some
my head on your lap
wet with my salt
lead me in that slow waltz of yours
as you talk nonsense and i smile
and maybe laugh briefly
take me to the nearest ocean
sit by me while i listen to my father woush..
while we stare in worry at that black silhouette walking towards us
while we breathe, heavily
or is it just me?
i can't breathe anymore dear, my heart's too big for my chest
thunder in my lungs
rain in my brain
freckles of worry on my lower back, that place my hand can't reach
but yours can
so come friend
brush these freckles off if you may
dawn is at bay
and i want to look pretty for the red sun
