he had travelled to the future
to rub my nose in it,
only to say he had -
moulded your curly-as-pubic hair,
inhaled your corn-on-the-cob eyes,
and let your freckles dissolve on -
on your tongue.
Oh,
so thats how it feels to be you.
Thats how we'll die someday.
yet do you wish I knew your last name?
That pride you swallowed today,
has it come back to discomfort you?
I miss your last name,
yet do you wish you knew my spoonin�?
That feeling I grew today,
should I have that looked at?
Is this admiration infected yet?
I miss your future,
yet do you know my costume for tomorrow?
That clock that ran away on us,
should I break it for you?
I miss your Ohio,
yet I hear the United are favoured this year.