Will you be my Yoko Ono
feeding me tangerine slices and cups of tea
staying in bed, laughing with me
while I write absurdities
that might light up this
too dark world?
Will you be my Yoko Ono
grow your hair long
wear printed summer dresses
and draw love in the sand
that is our time here together
while I dance and cuss
this world not enough?
Will you be my Yoko Ono
there when the gun goes off
proud and true
to something larger than us
lifting your skirt
in memory
while I sing somewhere else on?
