Woman who I called an animal,
like a ball of yarn chasing after your paw:
I was on the edge, I went jumping in.
I wanted to bring water over your skin.
Will you let me in?
You know I’m not him.
Cleo, let me in.
You know I’m not him.
No man, no man.
I went for a drive, saw they scraped the old field down.
Pulled around and left, passed your house and back to town.
While you coalesce, put the rest upon the shelf.
Just remember, this book won’t write itself.
Cleo! Come back in!
You are my best friend.
Come on! Come back in.
You are my best friend.