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You'll Remember Me in the Morning:
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You'll Remember Me in the Morning
I fall down.
Lacking head winds
I cannot continue
leaning forward so I
fall into your arms.
Hear me say I want to
be kept warm, hear me tell
you otherwise night
is blacker than oak gall,
more riddled than wormwood.
To you I may be
small and inconvenient.
Little worms
would be a greater thrill
than I—try making it
with little worms;
you'll see what the blind
worm sees, you'll
dig little worm holes,
you'll eat the dead.
You'll remember me
in the morning.
And when you undress
I lose myself.
I wonder who you are,
though I know you.
We are together frequently.
Maybe that is enough.
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