You gave me a lock of your hair,
Well, I can't recall. Something about love.
From the lock of hair,
began to grow, but with lips no one could kiss.
The gray skin, the eye askew, the wild black hair,
it spoke in the night and told me you don't care.
Your body is sweet, but the head is there
when you are not,
and honest. Oh, the things you kept from me!
and so much
it has to say.