I mean, it's my mother-*******-rock. I should know, I picked it.
And yes, I will push it up this *******-hill over, and over, and over, and over again.
Just for the split-second that it sticks.
For that hairs breadth between me and death.
For the longing that steamed off my coffee this morning as I stole a few blinks to catch up on my yawning.
For that smile that propenses every time your lip tenses as it sweetly condenses the-thought of a kiss.
For the way all your eyelashes whisper 'just this'
For the moon in the sky in the stars up-above.
For the fact that the Earth is the Moon's only/love.
Cuz at the beginning of time when their names nearly rhymed, Oh the Moon, she spun fast-as-a-top.
So close to the locus the Earth couldn't focus onthat sweet-swallowed-secret that Reva-in-Rock.
So the Moon was embarrassed!
Cuz the Earth couldn't see just how beautiful cavernous moon-dust could be and-Yeah cleverer/lovers might have found other/druthers but that Moon, she's as shy as can be.
So she took a step back.
In the hopes that this tact might help her sweet-lady to see the slow unfolding of her smile an expansion of existence to put infinity to trial and every singularity hidden in her grin held a small hiccup-of-hope to the edges of its skin cuz the scantest scrap-of-chance that this ruse might just still win makes the act of pitching-woo look a little like a sin but-**** don't it Feel-Divine?
Just give me time.
I will find your lines and cross them.
If you let me laugh with you I'll help you see how ******* me is like eating the space between the phrase 'I-double-dog-dare-you' and the word 'please'
You can't blame a Beast for Being when existing is the only thing it owns and honing-that-ferocious tends to try-the-tamer cuz this exercise-in-earthly will never make me saner.
I got a-Beast. With bones that moan.
She sleeps inside a cold-cave-stone, don't-gather-no-moss.