The words are there for the taking. You handed them over yellow and awake. I gave
you a series of question marks and you contemplated. I told you about psychology and
a mad man. You gave me history and yours on mint lines with perforation and occasional
generalities. What honey what milk what sunburn do you soothe with phrases. A mind
knows the intricate arches and swoop of your 's' because no one wears consistent like
you. You forget special vision goggles when you look over me. Qualifier as qualifier
is. You process material, sunburned on paper, pale in your mind. Those moments are
against me, begging for breath. Will you unleash, unbeckon? I withdraw for a moment,
stinger-less bees swarming. In that other moment, the one that comes next, you tell
me something unheard of. You are dark and beautiful. How can we steal pleats? Let
us cross over. Unfolding.
