2:15 am / Tuesday, Mar. 24, 2009

this is the archetype to the way that I bleed
open shirt cuffs sticky red on my sleeves
and I flow out like
I've been cut by your thorns
but that's the whole damn reason for the day I was born.
I'm here to carry you--
here to wary and worn you
caution tales like the yellow sign
in your rear view.
I've got your love here
for my words to protect
hold it near to me:
zipped pocket close to my chest.
I hear your heart pound
even from miles away
and I write rhymes for you
to guarantee that you'll stay
You've got the comeliest smile
that I ever have seen
Your tongue like venom to my sadness
and I want no vaccine.

last _ next