I have swallowed pale stones.

the first time we made love, i: i wasn’t sober.
(and you told me you loved me over and over!)
how could i ever love another, when i miss you every day:

remember the time we made love in the roses?
(and you took my picture in all sorts of poses!)
how could i ever get over you, when i’d give my life for yours.

I want to go home.