Make me.
You’ll see.
Better than
what you had not fantasy
or yummy treats for Pavlov’s complacent puppy.
I will sit
and stay-for you-master-full.
Why-I want to make you happy-
all over
ecstatic insanity. Conversely, this is pretty
good for nothing worth trading
souls,
never do I say.
To be
told you I won’t, you don’t,
I can’t help it always
feeling this way,
abraded when edges
won't fit,
the smooth cliff beckons
my plunge.
We were
not trying to hold on
to each others exposed roots,
loosening further what has eroded
off the bark,
exposed
sap dries the heart-
wood.
More about
together, alone.
We could be both those
Some days plays well
w/ others &
always wins
by cheating.
I let him.
Artwork credit By Internet Archive Book Images [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons.
