Metal to Metal

She invited me inside,
smiled, and asked if I've got ocd too.

The first thing we did when we walked in
was take off a big piece of art off her wall

She held my hand,
told me I was pretty,
said I bought her dinner,
and then rubbed her feet.

I suppose pain and tragedy
could become desirable experiences
if they can help you grow.

I write down in a note
a new composition

    “metal to metal
    cutting through space
    I lay down in your bed
    in your chains.”