if my lover ever asks me,
why did I choose him over the ones
with a moustache and a big fat mouth,
I would just kiss his fore-wrist
And he will repeat his question,
I’ll repeat the same thing till he finds comfort.
I’ll keep my nails short and my hair long.
So when he will finally understand,
he can pull my locks behind my ears,
till he leans in and place his ocean on my mute,
my fingers will close but the darkness won’t lead.
I’ll let him ask again
And when he will,
I’ll say, ”For everything that just happened.”