I know me.
If I come around more often
I’ll eventually want you, climbing on me.
You stopped me outside of your job.
Mentioned that you haven’t seen me in a while
I’ve stayed out the way.
Trying my best not to make eye contact
But your eyes of Santorini…
And your smile that locks up your tongue…
My mind wonders, underneath the surface.
That surface on your figure
That you call skin
Your voice sounds like
Butterfly wings.
And I didn’t try to, but I kept making you laugh.
And you didn’t try to, but you kept making me smile.
I wouldn’t mind
Getting in trouble with you
~ You Still Slow Dance, In My Mind
(From “The Other Nights” Poetry Collection)
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