They bombed our intestinal tracks with facts
And reason
While we sat in a pool of melted fat and sin

and I told the younger women at the bar that
This hamburger has a great amount of iron
In it. They're deficient.
I told them their Cosmo's were
Prolly doing more harm than my burger,
But they didn't believe me
Since they know Sarah Jessica Parker drinks them.
And thus I learned what cows drank.

I                                                                                                                       (love you)



just want to sit

and acquaint myself
with


you                                                                                         (tell me if it's too much)

everyday for a couple hours at least (I don't know what will happen everyday).
place and time is tentative, I'm no prophet.

but your mind and body are a masterpiece -
the Bible is over 2000 years old and it
still fascinates.

Your hands grew old
And Brittle.
Your lack of iron
stopped heme
production in your blood.

Soon your arms were lifeless,
Your legs
Lifeless.
Lifeless.

Your eyes slithered two miles deep
Into your skull
And I could no longer
Keep your interest.
You couldn't see me
Or feel me and all I wanted was to see and feel
You.

All I want is to see and feel you.

I will collapse your skull
With two strips of uprooted road
And drive circles around your brain.

On the corner of these roads
There is a playground.
One of the kids will confront
Me
And tell me how nice my ride is.

I've planted
Seeds
In the pores of my skin
And poured water In,
Systematically.

I've watched my
Flesh bud,
Invited insects and bugs,
For the roots of these shrubs
Are growing profoundly.

And nestling atop,
Where sun dispels drops,
I find doves frequenting my founding.

You offered these seeds,
For you I took heed.
I fear love is feeding my founding.

In field,
In stride,
In grass we run
And kiss each lily
Unique, all one.

With sun reflecting
Yellow scent
We travel the stem
'Til flower's met.

Peruse each petal
And spiral down
To threaded stamen
With smells profound.

Repose is met with
Yellow lips
While pollen falls
And nectar drips.

This corridor
Has a room
With a spicy baby
Grand piano.
The sound is worse
Than my dad's old
Bose, but
We were both a bit
Verbose.

I wonder
If your family thinks
I am a magician.
When I am around,
Both you and your bed
turn into mice.

you
can choose
a ripe
bright
green sprout
or
dry
conforming
leaves

neither are edible
neither will last
but
one might
make
your
outfit look
respectable

We lie for hours,
No words are transposed
Onto this heavy heated air.
Only scents of hair,
Skin, Bare
And thoughts of what
We want each other to be thinking.

I smile a lot,
I hope that's okay.