I’m slipping through
And she keeps flowing
Floating thoughts of her
It has to be her body…
Her tattoos and silent eyes
Carry me through internal conflicts
She doesn’t know, and she has no idea
That she’s the cause of these discussions
Every time I picture her towel
Wrapped around her head
Instead of her body being covered
She covers her wet hair
I’m slipping through
And she keeps flowing
Floating thoughts of her
It has to be her body…
I’m imagining the best parts of her
Sides of her that she expresses
This feels too much like a calling
It has to be her body…
~ Sakari
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