she says I have the mind of a poet truly I have the rapid neuron river mind of an addict genetics topsy turvy drug days of teenage summer shrug your overcoat of blame on their shoulders mine must be available to support the weight of the world as it rolls on my shoulders despite her chemical pump that floods my poet’s heart thus named when she tilted her head like a plant grows toward a window and she caught a few of the paper plane words I drifted towards her as one of my fidgety hands tap tapped my guitar but it’s not nerves and when she sighs and shakes her head and tapes her hand written label on my heart producing a drum circle beat beat beat I’m sure she can hear and I hope makes her want to move with me because when she moves with me my eyes rumba back into my skull watching the fireworks sparked by the match strike of her kiss and my rapid neuron river addict mind floods with sweet seraton killing all the pratical plants that take root in my root in my brain and she slips inside and dig dig digs deep into me and my paper plane words are comsumed by cast off firework sparks of fuckmefuckmefuckme
but oh girl slide the deadbolt back on your astonished open door expression
when it’s love it’s not pornographic
(even when somebody’s watching)
even when she’s watching me
think about her…
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