how i know i can't swim,
we somehow drifted apart
and i could have taken the advise of Moses,
and split the waters in between us in two,
-but tell me if love wasn't made for two
while i butter you up with sweet words
to have you as a spread
still feeling anxious as two ticks of
a message, still unread.

.....tying, tying,
i still doubt i'm your type,
that sort of guy you like cos
he liked you first,- you must call me cute
and i feel myself trapped in an  unwelcome
phenomenon -really feeling acute
but if you could feast on my eyes, you'd
fall prey to your hunger, if i gave the right look.

maybe i should tattoo my words
for their intentions to stick
but even a subtle taste, bite and a lick,
can at times overstep the tingles rushing
down to your feet. so i do prefer to kiss
but before the kiss, tell me if we'll be
trading skin for skin, or shedding skin off skin
cos we both know kiss will always
rhyme with hiss.