even though you and i are dead

i’ve been trying to get
back into writing about love
but only find bricks piling up
nice and neatly stacked
one by one by one
until the sky is red and black

it’s beautiful dreaming of you
dreaming of kissing your neck
and not out of disrespect
but thinking of making love to you
turns me on once again
like kissing your nipples
or rubbing your thighs

it only leads me to a sigh
like a guy wanting to die
i only dream of you now
even though you and i
are dead

bricks stacked higher until
they all come falling down upon us

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even though you and i are dead by 

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