My hands, explorers
Ten tiny magellan's sailing
To the edge
Of your skin
My eyes, archaeologists
Read cuneiform of your body
The curves and shapes
The cracks and lines

Warm sweat just moving down the walls
Red stains soak good intentions
Half-sweet, white revelations
Just not enough to mention
Uncut and ever-changing
We both want so much more than this
We're holding tight, white knuckle grip
Her hair was dripping down her neck

With shallow expectations
I hear her every single word
I reason without meanings
Just like we did on the 23rd
There were about 45 minutes past
She claimed it was coincidental
Some things are moving way too fast
I can't stand to be here where I'm at
Or is it my shallow expectations?