sliced melon,
honey drizzled.
you're the bloom of
bees and dizzy thunder
shudders.
peach fuzz,
we keep it short.
line of two and we
talk like we never
spoke before.
doo bazooka and
pulp lemonade,
you're sweet rendezvous
in the imaginative state.
it's great, hit your
beeper every few
milliseconds.
though sometimes
you never answer,
it feels like I'm talking
to planets.
my organic desire,
bambi freckles in daylight,
I know you're busy but do you
mind aiding an 'empty mind?'
do we feel like
doo bazooka,
wrapper against
the gums?
fake grills and pop
style typa talk,
no actions, no words.
I'll call you when
I need your silence the most,
or the fact that you know I'm
on the other line.
hilltop sitting,
beeping you every time.
