No words allowed

planets are drifting as you lay with your eyes closed

sifting through the ground where the corn grows,

levitating from the inside out, your skin is shaking,

you're moving your mouth but no words come out. no words

come out. your pores are they leaking the taste of a corn

field where a jet plane collides with my windshield

everytime i think of you? i've only wanted to lay next to

you with no words allowed. no words allowed. when we're

buried underground meet me in the dead people's lounge.

my skeleton bones will still want to be with our skeleton

bones all peaceful and perfect. we won't make a sound. we

won't make a sound. sixty years later and so far from

Iowa, the boy in the field never dreamed that someday i

would, after all these years and these miles, fall in

love with his grandchild. i fell in love with his child.

i fell in love with you, child.