Billy Budd

You came by yourself, but you left in a train
Following close to whatever is in front of you
Rails lay in their beds from Boston to Maine
And they trick themselves, dream about waking up
So we fold like paper
Into a desks top drawer, something I was writing
Into a tunnels dark mouth, the boxes have disappeared
And we laughed out loud for each one we never opened
So now the poets can guess at what we might have had
For all their loveliness, my page is just snow
And I follow your footprints, fill buckets with tears
With that hot water, I will make you tea
Cause now you say that you're sick, but I think you're just bored with my jumbled words so inarticulate, your inattentiveness
But I told you one time we were two twisted vines, green and inseparable
That sturdy of a weave it just isn't possible
So I will change my name, you can pretend you never knew me
And we'll fill up our floors with the discarded clothes
A skirt pulled up from under my bed, something I loved on you
Can you tell by my face, because I think it shows?
It is confusing here, feels like I am in a fog