Baby, You Can't

I can't say anything.
No no no
Cuz baby we both don't know what we want.
But I do know I find relief in
the lack of expectations,
the thrill of walking thin lines,
and the sense that our time is limited.
But baby, you can't call me baby
Can't confess my beauty and run your hands everywhere
and let me run mine.
Can't tell me that you want me all to yourself and pull me close when I try to leave.
Can't rest your head in my lap as we talk about nothing until five in the morning.
Can't watch me sleeping when the sunrises and press your lips deep into my hair (and I know you do because I'm only pretending to sleep.)
You can't, at least, not when her picture is on the bedside table, in a frame of pastel colors.