a posy of squares that look like your face
and a pair of hips swaying like a sleeping song
crooning about two muddy boots at the front door
and a broken watch that still chills my wrist
I'm looking and I want to be friends
and I swear you are salt in my teeth
the blinds in this room will be opened
five more times by me until I'm gone
trying to sleep ten more times until I'm home