Honey

She was sinking slowly, we are leaving red Palermo, we eat pizza and think of home, it takes energy to roam, she is such a generous soul, this girl has stripped my bones, she's an Italian lover, a five and dime honey down home, but different from New York, where she works unhappily, we keep up a chatterful tone, since our time on Trapani, men who want to reach us, try to circle our thrones, fade into yellow nothingness, sunlit train tracks groan, nowhere like where we're going, she doesn't want to moan, paints her face for show.