Me - “My Mum’s getting worried” skinny You - “God I want you right now” beautiful Us - “Are they hanging a painting up?” loud It’s release kindled with belief that you could find that corresponding jigsaw piece and I’m a corner piece - easy and you are an outdoor cat - hardly tame in that pair of black workout pants and that flowing dark hair You are like Spanish beautiful, strange thing I can’t get my tongue around I’m like somebody lmaoing on a chat room efficient with my lack of substance laying on the bed watching you get dressed I drag on my imaginary post-****** because I know you hate the smell of the real thing unless its staleness is imprinted deep in my clothes this disease has no known cure the way the images slideshow their way behind my eyes the way my blood is rerouted every time I catch a smell of your sweat or a memory of your taste like faces on passing trains - eyes locked momentarily I went from student to drop out to student to lover of life if life were a metaphor for the way you move those hips you said you don’t know how to dance well your tongue must’ve been taking night classes maybe one day I’ll ask your last name maybe one night you’ll say mine like a confession but until then, special little stranger, keep bringing that *** over to my place