My mind is a flighty bird
thinking of you, then away, then back to you
it jerks and jabs
To think of you is to look upon
a newly opened gift
and delight in its pleasure again and again.
My mouth is tired
Tired from talking
Worn out from singing, laughing, smiling
Tired from kissing you
But I would die kissing you
I would kiss you if it killed me
Though it may be my end
I want to persue you
I want to know you
How divine I think you are
How I taste and retaste
The flavour of your memory in my mind
How very much I wish to
Steal looks at you
As you talk, not knowing that
I am adoring you.
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