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