the alcoholic only turns to jesus
because he has wine in his veins

it would be foolish to say that you were ever mine

like making a claim to the sun only because you felt its heat

falling in love with you was like a rollercoaster park
not the cliché of ups and downs but looking out to see
a complex weave of coloured tracks that weave in and out
like a knotted necklace
a bowl of spaghetti
am i in the queue for an old wooden ride
or the two-hundred foot high twister?

your eyes ignite my blood like it’s made of
the finest cognac and you are a blazing forest fire
a two second glance is a two hour high
every nerve comes alive
your smile shatters my heart and makes the pieces
w e i g h t l e s s
they float and pierce my tongue
i am speechless