The words are there for the taking. You handed them over yellow and awake so I might get to know you better. I gave you a series of question marks and you contemplated. I told you about psychology and a mad man. You gave me back history and yours on mint lines with perforation and occasional generalities. What honey what milk what sunburn do you soothe with phrases. A mind knows the intricate arches and swoop of your 's' because no one wears consistent like you. You forget special vision goggles when you look over me. Qualifier as qualifier is. You process material, sunburned on paper, pale in your mind. Those moments are against me, begging for breath. Will you unleash, unbeckon? I withdraw for a moment, stinger-less bees swarming. In that other moment, the one that comes next, you tell me something unheard of. You are dark and beautiful. How can we steal pleats? Let us cross over. Unfolding.
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