by Pattie Flint
I like the way you get nervous.
I wonder if dancing in the black
rain made you need to pee too.
Carve me into pumpkin babies,
I’ll wear the perfume you don’t like
so I can feel you kissing it off me.
I’ll put honey in your mouth and
you can be the dancing bear.
You can’t be my hero and I won’t
pretend to be yours, but I’ll wrap
you in my stolen cape anyways,
a touch of you for all of me.