She knows her man is broken, but, she cares
compassion is her grace, her beauty bright
she talks to him in spite of some affairs
she dreams of him and kisses him at night.
The bed is big and empty when he’s gone
To bring him here would put the world in sync
To lay him on his side or put him on
the bed, the woman, love would be the drink
His pain would all be banished with her wine
His lips would not be parched when drinking her
Though “broken,” he would feel the best of “fine”
A cat, she’d let him pet her skin and purr
An oyster, she would feed him from the shell
And all night long they’d feed each other well.