Manifest Anapest

So you say this is the end
Well baby let’s begin
To strike the set of every evidence
And cut the thread that held you there
And so, suspended in the air
God! Damocles! This drop refused to drip!
So fold it into your plans
And hold it inside your hands
And leave
A pillow on the bed
Each morning stealthily prepares
This absence and the sheer affront of it
And drink, O drink another bit
O did you think I’d suffer this,
Who can’t afford to buy your prophecy?
So fold it into your plans
And hold it inside your hands
And soon slipped into night
But whose lips will you bite
Tonight?
And so you say this is the end
Well baby baby let’s pretend
That you were ever mine to start with
And with an easy backward trace,
In an amnesiac embrace,
Would you were here, O would what we were where