You say you like the way a risk
can tickle the spine
with possibility,
how fortuity tastes sort of sweet,
like love on a wild foray
to nowhere, but everywhere
well, my heart says,
I'm too feeble in the knees
to skip about, like lovelorn teenagers
who f
.......a
.......l
.......l
at the most meager of flattery
You say, I have pretty hair-
and the suggestion of
your hands tangling themselves
through each strand,
like some untamed breeze
tickles my spine
with possibility,
but there's no need to rustle
when love is making up her mind
