Arabella

Arabella
house and high pitches
the dog she understands
we can't
so dreamin
shift across sheets
lost mothers, instruments, and metal fruit bowls
tell me
my eyes are hungry
babe, i haven't eaten for a while
go to sleep
i'll try to keep
your birthday in the car ride alive

when you wake up
i will be covered in
milky sweat
and grey, grey, grey cashmere

i may not fall in a christian
and cameroon for a muslim
at the mall?
love, love, love the cold