Berries so rarely blue
Sweetness on tap
Your Faceless head
Makes no sound
But your head with a face makes a tell-tale moan
Shifting the tear ‘a firm-ahhhhh…
We’ll fill the empty skies
With our hollow sighs
Creating a solid for us
Marching towards one another
Our shapes will shift
But our dream will never smother
I’ll monitor yours
If you monitor mine
Detecting those electrical impulses
Recording our activity
Measuring our pace…
The one we love-to-make
Protecting against attacks
We’ll perform our surgical sex
As we transplant our love
