Organized planning

[lachrymalglands]

Magnetic forces pull, and I wish to only speak in ruse.
I long for,
my sap on sticky finger,
Jewel weed to this itch.
With the whisper of particles forming
ideas in through my ears.
Speaking lightly of foreign lands, that with effort
are closer near.
Ours cups are full to the rim
and dancing will only make them spill.
Fade out dehydration,
dance above and quench me.