Warpath, On the Thin Line, Be

[weirdameriica]

I want to have him steeped -

in the wrath I use to stir my tea

and make him feel the feathered down

till the gentle white falls all around

him

and his waist-side curve

of a crooked smile

where words escaped

and

gutted

my insides

I want him in my deep

right above the knee’s

and around my waist-side curve

in a life measured in hours, minutes -

for just a fraction of a second,

what I would give

to dance

the thin line between,

with him -

where words ignite

a pulse

to

our insides