Since last you whispered in my ear I learned
Since last your cinnamon eyes looked into mine I lost
a biker with a tattooed thigh and married a man I like.
Since last you smelled of new cut grass I earned
a star I wear each day and bought a bungalow.
I painted it blue.
Since last your fingers gripped my shoulder I gathered and
a family of broken angels
Since last your soft dry lips kissed mine I lost
the easy faith that you had
shoved into my back pocket.
But when the lights go out and fog
gathers round the bungalow,
your shadow crawls beneath my pillow
and that cold whisper