i'm not sure how you do it.
in my mind,
disinterest rhymes with pleasantries.
within this twisted stream of
(un)consciousness
you reside, an
unfathomable peculiarity
pressing my recycled thoughts
to brand new.
beloved,
i crave you.
you are inspiration's necessity
i am yours yours yours-
a canyon echo
reverberating inside my skull
(your crooked smile is a lifeline.)
and surely
your physical touch is unearthly.
and surely
there is no bond stronger
than that between our fingertips tracing the groves
of the other's skeleton
on repeat.
the progression
of this obsession
is delicately alarming
your manner
desperately charming.
i am a fool,  i know,
to bestow my organs
upon such a mortal man.
but your voice
makes my knees weak
and your songs
will be my downfall.
you are the only one
i break my promises for.
you are a permanent
psychedelic escape,
a lanky enigma;
you will endlessly be
my favorite mystery
(though i have you figured to the core)
and you will always be
the only one
that kept me interested.