The Fence

Summer Love...

I breathe you up and in me...

I take your hands 

And graze your finger length to their nails, 

And feel the softness of it all, 

Like electricity.

I let the storm clouds contain you, 

And try not...

Dare not...

Myself...

To contain you...

Yet...

Somewhere underneathe, as I, your are a pixie in my palm...

Ever with me, tinkering...

Laughing...

And that's all it is. 

(Well not all)...

And it's okay...

I say...

As my heart breaks, 

And I wonder what it is that bites me to notice. 

I wonder...indeed little Tink..

What I might be missing. 

Their words stir, in whispers about...

And I am remembered how...

Oh, you can never stop mouth from its flame....

So, 

I won't try. 

Neither 

Will I...

Raust myself about, whether or not to do what comes so naturally. 

I try building fence...you come around, and I put it down

I try building sense...

You come around, and make it loud...

And secumb, in me, my "sixth" sense. 

"Charmed, mi lady...charmed". 

I put it down...

Pick the tools back up...

See your walk and forget...

What I was talking about...

Charmed, til tools are shed...

And the fence, remains, 

In scattered 2x4's and irrelevant plans.

The site's been abandoned. 

And I wonder...

Where have they gone...?