I hate to hear you think aloud
rehearsing my eulogy from the couch
maybe if I leave we’ll figure out
how I misread your envy for dreams out loud
I am a hyphen, curling in the sun
born in-between and prone to no one
but I am where you belong my love
don’t die beside someone wrong my love
at lunch you applaud my honesty
imagine I lived as well as I can speak
between what we do and what we are
is a perilous pause I can’t endure