hashmarks on hot paper
pressed between palms
s'wet
i'm on all fours on the
dusty floor
my unkempt unswept
cerebellum. bella,
you confound my senses.
i keep smellin' loneliness and
feelin't he waft of clean dish scent.
believe me, i am mostly harmless,
i'm just overstocked on
sentiment. love makes of me a
sentinel. it challenges my
sentience.
i've got automatonic love
you've got automatic allure
meet me halfway
draw a line in the sand
then dare me to cross it;
your body is a beacon
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