first i must brave the electric
field filling the space between
us in your living room,
then i must make very sure i am
absolutely correct
when i stare at your thighs and
envision how the rest of the night
should go
then i must speak,
and my words must tip-toe around your face,
tickle,
…convince…
am i ugly?
am i a casanova?
if i
if i moved myself
closer to you
would the buildings fall down in
just
the
right
order?
but we must always know
we must surely know
i will go home
because chances are for the living.