and buried just below her chest.

"Whatever I was searching for,

it was never you," she says.

The record ended long ago,

we go on dancing nonetheless.

I opened like a locket,

"If you're ever cold," I wrote,

"there's warmth inside me;

I'm the pocket of an old winter coat."

But where she used to say "I need you."

Now...."I don't."

You'd only make the softest sound,

like sugar pouring into tea.

Darling let your Self pour down

and dissolve into the Love

who revealed himself there quietly to me.