Everybody has their own version of a predictable thought
that pulls all their strength down, swallows them whole
and simply lets it.
It makes the powerful fall and
the wealthy in romance feel restless.
But here you are, giving the top crust of my sandwich extra jam.
Your face an inch from mine.
I realize that you’re my weakness.
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 1:02 PM UTC
Everybody has their own version of a predictable thought
that pulls all their strength down, swallows them whole
and simply lets it.
It makes the powerful fall and
the wealthy in romance feel restless.
But here you are, giving the top crust of my sandwich extra jam.
Your face an inch from mine.
I realize that you’re my weakness.
Anyone wants to hand me the jam?
Request permission to use this poem