Nettles sting my feet.
I'm wearing too much perfume.
Humidity is making me stick.

Your shirt smells like ***.
Your left shoe isn't tied.
Anxiety is making you bite your lip.

Sleeplessness makes me a liar.
Your vision is slipping south.

Youth and heat
makes summer sweet
and the lock on my door goes click.

I'm under your fingernails
with lipstick cries,
  Give it to me again.

Like Saturn's seven moons,
your falling feet make circles.

Your skin's tucked in
to the subtle grace of gravity
and my breath is in your lungs.

Please show me slowly,
what I only know the limits of.

Run me down,
while I'm blinded by the sun.

Your white trash beautiful;
take me while I'm young.