what difference does it make if i tell you my essence, 
when you can't drink it in; you're full of yourself 
and what compliments your own ideas

drink up an idea and chase it
with the backwash of your mind
you aren't listening but you hear oh so well. 

singing songs like they echo
back up a treacle drenched ditch 
deep deep down they tumble, incubate, but never burst. 

and you hope of this from me? 
so small and simply watching 
wandering from one thought to the next and listening 
rather than letting something be heard
in one ear and out my neck. 

i'll let you hold my hand,
burn my tongue with your liquor words 
stretch my thighs with sky-drenched eyes;
your pupils were so big. 

you'll wonder where i went,
but you should know,
grand provocateur.

 
never sit still and i'm bored of this place 
i could never bore of you like you bored into me 
but if i stay for too long ill stay_stuck. 


on my knees deep

muck mire mud with you...
 
being dirty (with you) wouldn't be so bad; 

(fingers slip slid, drip drop on my skin
recycling the sun's cloud lover)

only, i love the chaos of rain/not the aftermath.


that was fleeting.