Arabella
Arabella
house and high pitches
the dog she understands
we cant
so dreamin
shift across sheets
lost mothers, instruments, and metal fruit bowls
tell me
my eyes are hungry
babe, i havent eaten for a while
go to sleep
ill try to keep
your birthday in the car ride alive
when you wake up
i will be covered in
milky sweat
and grey, grey, grey cashmere
i may not fall in a christian
and cameroon for a muslim
at the mall?
love, love , love the cold