the pillow hearts me redder than you do,
crowns my dreams regal over murky lands,
from somber realms to the wake of blue;
into her clasp, my wingless wishes skew,
as her cuddle bids two ears to my demands,
oh, the pillow hearts me redder than you do;
she seethes my mind, till dreams vapor thru’
the sky, bodies pitching, wings for hands,
from somber realms to the wake of blue;
they gnaw unto the moon, shave its bare into
mirrors, reflecting the truth, so I understand
that the pillow hearts me redder than you do;
in her cradle, dismal storms I can't subdue
so she showers the sorrow out of my glands
from somber realms to the wake of blue;
and when my barrels empty, floods issue
upon her, but she stems peace from her sands
for the pillow hearts me redder than you do,
from somber realms to the wake of blue.
