Writing a poem to you feels old
because once upon a time
you became my ideal world

You never understood me;
and that's the fun of it
I never fully grasped you;
and that's the magic you did

Your clean-cut world
No wonder, watched over by God!
A dream not your own
Throat about to collapse, to choke

You are my contrary
yet you are so appealing
because you don't contain crowds like me
with all of its restlessness
all of its fits, its bursting glee

Yet you have secrets;
I'm pretty sure you *******
when you think about Pitbull
or your boyfriend
and if you don't, then I don't know

Church going gal
Laughter and a bright smile
So intoxicating
So dangerous – only sometimes.