grind the beat

the things you could do to me scare me more than what i am capable of doing to myself. i am a nymph, you are a bumble bee. i dance, you float, and we always seem to fall back into each other, that lazy slumber we adore so much. intertwined, far away, and far apart. closer on couches, closer on pink. our scene, we debut: smoking in bed, and here i am, reading you passages to sing you to sleep. "read me that story one more time, the one where he jumps out of the window and breaks his feet." my cryptic words mean nothing to you, do you understand what i'm saying? "THERE'S AN ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM." we must face what we refuse to hear. "god, how i wish i had gotten to you sooner," i hear you croon behind me. well, i don't pity us. i wonder what wer'e doing here, most days.