The city was in front of me
No wait, behind me,
It’s everywhere
Circling the room in its vibrations
And I can’t help but wonder
If we are on stable ground

There is art
In your heart
Painting pictures
When I lay
My head down on your chest

There are songs in your eyes
Singing lullabies
When you hover
Pin me down
With your stare

There is a poem
On the tip
Of your tongue
I taste it
When I kiss you

You are tortured
Stereotyped
My jaded lover
I hear it
When you won't talk

At a Starbucks
Because they’re really all the same
Pausing to take sips,
Spooning straw mountains
Of whipped cream from the cup I asked for
He didn’t fill it all the way
Because whipped cream is a valuable commodity
And I don’t think he liked me that much
Starbucks is the kind of place where you can write a poem with pauses
To drink your nitro
Sip your whipped cream straw
Our cashier was nervous
And had pink hair

pull you close
grab my waist
rest my hands
on your face
kiss you slow
close embrace
lift me up
wearing lace
hands will drift
press and trace
melting with
the sweet taste
love on lips
time to waste
you and i
in this place

s.s

Love is not blind,
but he who did not see your worth.