Mourning in the morning, even by the evening,
smoked in the dusk – I’m the dew that meets the sunrise.
Smell me, taste me, feel me, breathe me.
Inhale – inhale.
Don’t you know? I’m the muse that gives the dawn
its minty kick. And I’m always there, but better
when you’re alone, talking to yourself
and crazy. Pass me the fifth baby,
before the day settles
and you miss me.
Never mind the never-mind’s
when we have this sleepless town
to dance and be depraved in.
The music calling, hips responding,
three missed calls on your neck
where my lips should be.