hot coffee on the table
god pacing around the kitchen
sirens hum the early beatles
her eyes excavate a ditch and
i am so empty, i crave to explode
please god i need emotion
her eyes turn to the ocean of blood
sinking in which is a signed note

"baby, i am back home and i'm sorry
i used a condom, you know, but anyway
i drank, you know, and was a bit horny
the stars did whisper your soft name to me"

stains on my window from last summer
when everything was perfect until fall
driving down the shore i think i need her
despite the meaninglessness of need
to dip in freezing water with nothing on me
a sharped ripple brings what never happened back
of course, it could be happening tomorrow
despite the improbability she'd read
the words i wrote in mad confusion
on a wet paper towel in a used woman's stall
i want some memories back, that is, if you don't need them
no, actually, babe, i want them all