Last night I dreamed I was an EMT.
I took your call—you said our love was dead.
It hurt to see its corpse in front of me.
“Please bring it back to life right now!” you said.
So I start up my heart up and feel it beat
And feed it to our love to live upon.
I say: “Quick—quick—give me your heart, my sweet.”
You say: “I can’t right now.” And then you’re gone.
You cry: “I’ll find the time! Just not today!
I swear that when I’m free, I’ll make a date!”
And like an idiot, I say: “Okay!
I’ll be here!” And I wait. And wait. And wait.
While my heart loses blood, minute by minute;
And our love dies, because your heart’s not in it.
No comments:
Post a Comment