Husky honey-whispers
escape her lips like smoke.
My stomach goes all hurly-burly
and I forget how to use my hands.

I bite my tongue. I bite my lip. My eyes implode.
I imagine I blappity-zap  
a-twistin' and a-turnin' into some 1940's cartoon fella
hair black and slicked back,
heart poppin' out my chest like an alarm clock.
All I can do is stand around, pretending I'm not
getting drunk, just by – staring
at her.

She can't see me like I see her.

I want to stomp up on the dining table,
then burn the kitchen sink down

and scream ******* to the land and sky
for making her and I
as things not made for each other.

She plays around with her mouth on mine.
She holds me like a sister, and kisses me like a pet.
I melt with every moment I get.
She will never love me.