There are bumble bees
In the wires of my mind
Buzzing and *******
Somewhere behind my cerebral cortex
And my hypothalmus
They make my brain go fuzzy
With drops of honey (or is it a sting)
When you kiss me.
All the receptors bloom open like nectar laiden flowers
I can almost see my mind as a forest clearing
In early spring
With pale green stems
And periwinkle flowers and yellow blossoms
This place is precious
And long forgotten
I wish i could show you
Like photo albums in child hood
Its so hard now
To clear my brain on paper
But its getting better.
Nov 20, 2016
Nov 20, 2016 at 12:32 AM UTC
There are bumble bees
In the wires of my mind
Buzzing and *******
Somewhere behind my cerebral cortex
And my hypothalmus
They make my brain go fuzzy
With drops of honey (or is it a sting)
When you kiss me.
All the receptors bloom open like nectar laiden flowers
I can almost see my mind as a forest clearing
In early spring
With pale green stems
And periwinkle flowers and yellow blossoms
This place is precious
And long forgotten
I wish i could show you
Like photo albums in child hood
Its so hard now
To clear my brain on paper
But its getting better.
