Ba Boom Ba.

"ba-boom

ba

ba-boom

ba

ba-boom

ba

...."

you never got it right...
instead,

"ba-ba-boom

ba-ba-boom "

is your translation.

But don't you... hear it?
Or have you any rhythm?

Patience running low as you devour six gluttonous minutes: ears pressed against bare breasts, as I lay there with you resting on me...
as if you were an infant...
as if I were settled in to nurse you...

You should've caught the pattern after 30 seconds.

The

ba-boom

ba

ba-boom

ba

of the tattered bloody drum that keeps my breath in step.
The very breath that lets me love you this way.

Back strained from supporting all the weight your head has burdened, I give up.

And if I didn't see such symbolism in this, you and I might stand a chance.

But I do...

Oh baby, I do.