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you could tap your shoes in four-four time
until your feet hurt
we could hang out to dry
our skin made of fabric
threads coming loose
and you could sing your blues
under the porch light
but take off the mask
and would you look at my face
as it leaks all over the hardwood floors
and you told me you're thirsty
boy on the bed
just don't drink the ocean
don't be so callow
don't be so green
don't stain the carpet
that's not you
you're not that orange
and we can't divide you
and your skinny arms hang out the window
of these hotel rooms
the boat-room we lived in
the forks that you stole
and left for the streets
look at the city
as she takes off her clothes
and she leaves you a trail
of garments on the floor
for you to follow

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