i used to write more than i do i'm sure every poem i poured was more about you than anyone else i out grew even when, what i penned, was before your time you were the reason for every line every rhyme, every stanza every plan i had for romance began when you were dancing that's when i first glanced in to see, the only woman who'd ever be good enough for me to answer could i love; we'll see no. i yelled, si... si's my answer no doubts held me as ransom bowing at your feet, for a chance to sweep you off them keep you often; without the nausea smothering, keeps vultures hovering applauds come, from who seek, our love plummeting i'm so dumb again, to weep, for your summoning with frequent wondering; will we meet again later, to wake the neighbors & break the bed to make amends, we escape to France where they're rude as us; like parlez vous these nuts or Jamaica, where they give zero fucks, where we make love until then, i'll write less or i'll write this, over & over again it bears the likeness, of me holding your hand clawing your waist; pawing your face gnawing the taste, out of every place, you want me taste you want me; then say yes cause i've said it plenty; times more, plus many every time i pen it, is how you know for sure i meant it if you don't mind, with you in mind it's infinite, when i write with you in mind till, in my arms, it's you in mine