Her side of town, fancy feelings and things like her. And in her mind, things were suave.
That rope between her mind and her heart sometimes tying romance. In my head, I'd connected that rope. The one I'd climb down, got cut.
Now I'm swinging between the two ends, sometimes upside down, somewhere she can't even see, sometimes getting her choked up.
The deeper secret is the infatuation rolling around, tied inside a little chest in me, begging to get out and tie those two pieces of rope together.
Picture threads as mouths, lips to lips, tongue to tongue, swinging from breathless lungs. A fire that never can be quelled, burning the south side of her heart, smoking her out behind her eyes, keeping that steam engine on its tracks.
Long hours disconnected— I need jump-start cables. It all becomes another unrealistic fantasy. A drop of it infects my thoughts, seeking your reality through fantasy. I'll pretend it didn't come from you, like the rest of my delusions.
Lips to bouncing thighs, you ruse. I'll read you head to tippy toe; you read my behaviour so the yearn grows.
The dreams you sew so neatly never reach me. Your confession never realized.
Mine I've couriered from my heart to you through my eyes.
But if you ever really felt anything, I'd never be the wiser.
