hey baby—good morning/evening/morrow/night—
i awoke to burning wet purple leaves
and a wet roof blue light. you are not here—
but you are somewhere—in your t-shirt: tight and bright.
count, note, these rhymed lines that do not
break. count
on me i’ll come around again: like clockwork:
every twenty minutes: stop and stop.
like this, again and again; again! take
me, never give (me) up. we are each’s
other: the ultimate double entendre and
someday these words will still be lit on fire
in some tattered book washed up upon some beach.
don’t ask the cost; (for now) i give this shit for free:
i live to give you more than you give me.