Saturday, May 23, 2009

"damn baby... you fluster me..."

i really hope he can't see my confusion.
it's hard, staring long into him,
knowing how unusually flustered it makes me--
i can't tell if i'm coming or going,
if i'm speaking or rambling nonsensical nothingness
am i actually sharing conversation with him
or just saying "mmmhmmm" to whatever he says?
his thoughts move so much faster than me, it seems,
each one pointed, intelligent, strong,
sexier than the summer fervor
of kisses behind tinted windows.
though, the thought of both makes me want to shield my eyes;
fearful of their betrayal
of my thoughts.

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