And I regret not following the after thought my heart throbs.
Sometimes my imagination gets the better of me.
Watching you follow.
Watching you lead.
Turn around and recommend the next best thing.
Rather than the havoc that ensues following a river of blue ink.
I've lost my cap in it's essence.
Creating messes unseen. Still I know it's there.
I begin to drown.
Shaped into a plastic mold of where she's last stepped.
I could only hope to be healed in recommendation.
 
She drew me to life in her river of ink.
Filling the gaps of my imperfection with lines traced in blue.
My after thought drenched in red.
Watching you follow.
Watching you lead.
My heart has tripled in rhythm.
 
There isn't anything to learn here, everything is fundamentally natural.
This open willingness to self destruct.
This open willingness that generates anticipation.
Our history has been written as an open mouth kiss
Between hand and ink.
And I regret not following the after thought my heart beats any sooner.
Our courage to spill into the unknown