If my kind of crazy ever becomes
Your kind of heat.
Stuck-on, sweating the
Small of your back.
I just think I'd like to know. But, I'm
Okay, either way.

Anything to
Help spin your gems,
Closed eyes, yearning,
Projected romantic foolishness.
Remaining, vigilant, relevant.

Bolt me, back onto the
Bracketing. Make me make my sense.
Turn me four shades of color, your
Psychics won't name, but
Keep the floor close to my knees.

Fruity alcohol inebriates the same way.
But take your berries outta my
******* tobacco.
Smoke my harsh ones, 'till your lungs scar.
Or, tell me that I'm vague. 

If your pick of poison ever matches
My brand of cigarettes
The floor's always open, without help, anyway.
Take care, for my sake, not to
Ash on the rug.
"Okay. Either way..."