planets are drifting as you lay with your eyes
closed sifting through the ground where the
corn grows, levitating from the inside out,
your skin is shaking, you're moving your
mouth but no words come out.  no words come
out.  your pores are they leaking the taste of a corn field where a jet plane col-
lides with my windshield everytime i think of you?  i've only wanted to lay next
to you with no words allowed.  no words allowed.  when we're buried under-
ground meet me in the dead people's lounge.  my skeleton bones will still want
to be with our skeleton bones all peaceful and perfect.  we won't make a sound.
we won't make a sound.  sixty years later and so far from Iowa, the boy in the
field never dreamed that someday i would, after all these years and these miles,
fall in love with his grandchild.  i fell in love with his child.  i fell in love with
you, child.