The cold tonight seems more anxious to talk



than he has seemed in nights before



skinless face and yellow heart, he



hesitates and I wait



All my stories are about the same things



I find so many beds for them



I find this package of tiny lamps



and it makes a firey ring



Right now is the reason I carry this jewel



everywhere round my neck



I keep it close but still outside



this is my explanation



All my stories are about the same things



I find so many beds for them



I find this package of tiny lamps



and it makes a firey ring



A box of love and sex and reflection



its got my face and hands



the lonely is yellow and old



watch the cold around my bed



All my stories are about the same things



I find so many beds for them



I find this package of tiny lamps



and it makes a firey ring