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 a combination of things “metal to metal cutting through space I lay down in your bed in your chains.”