two
different people this week
that they could
BLOW my mind.
One, with a tongue, and a
claim for love
(6 years in the making, i should
point out, as if that changes the story).
The other with curiosity and
a tongue as well
(but used for wit and less-adult teasing)
The first fueled by the Captain
but dared by that bitch, Time.
Desperation, a long brewed product of the
latter--then set ablaze by the former
Out it fizzles, replaced by yes,
desperation.
The second (that's you), however, activating a long-vacant
space. You're causing that part (you know,
the one that beats)
to sit in a stupor, wrestled into submission
by a brain that wants nothing more than
to sit and send signals to my fingers
to cause scribbles on a page
that--if more legible--
might mean something to someone. But the fact that it's happening
and that I'm blaming you
means more than you can imagine.
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