please.

Take these tears of mine;
make them glow in the darkest of nights.
Without solitary music ghosting
across the waters,
you and I would not live
to see another moon upon these bursting clouds.

I want to release the
hard-boiled hurt in my chest that
pains me late at night
and wakes me in the morning
and crawls under my nails to infiltrate
my blood:
my heart knows yours
better than the stitch-ridden seams of my own.

Look upon the sun
and think of that song you like,
and love me.
Please.