This song is the girl you could never bring yourself to tell anyone about. Heavy and slow wearing sloppy clothes, undesirable in every way save her consuming desperate desire for you. If only you could have the courage to see beyond surfaces, to love the beautiful and the fragile beneath. But you can’t.
And she saw that, and it was okay.
But you wonder if she might go to bed crying, and you hope she doesn’t. And some part of you is quite terrified that it is very much not okay, and that someday there will be a terrible, terrible reckoning. And in bed she’d soft and softly kiss the skin stretched smooth across your eyes, and you always wondered why she did that, no one else has before or since. And so that is where she lives, in a thin film of licked lips somewhere above your eyes.