"death pulls your heart out of your chest
hands it over and says this is a meal for two

lonely is a concept that only applies
to people who live alone inside their body

the rain becomes small hands on the
roof of your head pushing you under

somewhere the version of you that loves
still exists somewhere the version of me --

you’re a telephone that never rings
in a house nobody lives in any more

little fists in the morning ask for love ask
for money ask why you stay out all night

somewhere the version of me loving you
exists and is happy the version of he --
when I say little fists I butterfly I angry children
rhyming with a heart dripping down my arm

in a dream the telephone keeps ringing
this house where people cannot sit still

somewhere the versions of you know a version
of me who left no forwarding address

the rain is a noun that carries wet inside it
the same way that I is a noun that carries you

alone means having to say those words
that people save for after dinner

death pulls my heart out of my chest
says this is a meal meant for two

(we eat well that night)"