She’s a pea seed, she’s my pea seed.
Golden yellow fresh off the pod;
I’ve held onto her for so long,
I’ve seen her sprout from the moisture of my breath.
She is going to the tropics.
She might go dry.
I’d rather have that than let her survive
This winter, where she’s most certain to die.
My pea seed can’t handle her liquor,
But she can, her dark chocolate.
My pea seed uses me as a canvas to compare lip shades;
I draw black hearts and black circles on her.
When the winter sets, and spring comes blooming,
I think I’d plant my pea seed;
But to water her I’d need to evaporate the water off my body
For indefinitely long, and I can’t do that.
I can’t get through,
I don’t want to leave too soon,
Pea seeds can’t help me get through;
I’m an anachronism struggling up a slope.
I wish anyone but Kanye would tell me
Don’t leave so soon.