coffeewhiskey

heres what it does to you and why you do it.

well your ribs, dear
like a ladder you see
I'd like to climb them
with my finger tip lips

and those ribs dear
i'd like to tickle them
like a guitar's strings
until my dear
like a guitar
you sing

and these ribs dear
they seem to lead
to some kind of beat
that speeds and slows
depending on
where my fingers go

inside those ribs dear
there is a heart, darling
that seems to soundtrack
those nights with you

and i fear, dear
that every song seems to end
in an empty silence
that ends, darling
like a night alone
like a one night's stand
like the last ring in a telephone

and that sound, bird
has no beat
like a baby crying
or a couple yelling
with their eyes perched
at their feet

and i wish, girl
between you and me
that those sounds would
help me sleep.