I will build a house in desertSo you don’t have to keep your pants stuck at anklesSo you don’t have to undo your inside out clothes right away.
I want to build a house in desertSo I don’t have to keep my fingers between your teethSo you can quiver, tremble, convulse, pant, grunt, sighAnd I can bask in your glory.
I want to build a house in desertSo you don’t have to hide your scarsThey make sense to meLike a pair of sad constellations on your arm.
I want to build a house in desertSo you can drench my t-shirtAnd you wouldn’t have to worry about the stains tears leave.
I want to build a house in desertSo I could let you weep, sleep, be close, be distantIn my arms, cradled till dawn.