It works that way
I cannot write about someone
Unless I have felt a certain way
Unless there it is
The potential
I can no longer be without them.

I let time pass
Which I never do
Once I am inspired
I will write on the spot
Under any circumstance

On my brown skin with a marker
On the back of this flyer
Even on the magazine cover
That belongs to the hair parlor.

I think of you fondly
But my wont to write
Never comes out ardently
The paper still blank
Though I let months turn things around.

Writing is my sole indicator
If not on paper,
It will not last in time either.