Tell me when you said that you don’t love me,
breathing out, in between the kisses,
biting my lower lip, you didn’t mean it.
Now I see what Noah means when she says
looking pretty when the sun hits your blue eyes
while I’m tight armed under your warm embrace
naked, us, and sun through that window.
Tell me when you saw me in public,
you biting your own lower lip this time,
it wasn’t just lust.
I look yet again in those baby blues babe
and see that sea; you inside me, and me in you,
your lips not touching me this time,
the motion continues; lips stay far off.
Tell me at least when you leave that you’ll see me again,
though we both already know, we will,
it wouldn’t kill you to say it once in a while
as if you mean it.
Tell me you got jealous when alien hands brushed
past me, alien head leaning in closer and closer;
I saw it in blue proof. You cannot not tell it,
and goddamn your silence for that.
Tell me why you’ve been this possessive since,
your blues always searching my browns’ direction of view;
you’re Caliban. Blue Shakespeare in love.
Tell me in the end. You tugging my lips hard,
those bites won’t speak on their own on my skin babe;
say more than in blue this time.
Tell me why you even bother to love me.
- this one ain’t no translation. original sins, my own.
