Your heart rumbles, like, steel pan and I think it wants Me to Get Go-ing Closer If Possible So I tickle you to take advantage Of pink moments. Thriving on Such, On Temptation, To lie with platonic men and make Lovers ironic. We sleep with pretense, measuring breaths, Because pentameter Indicates when to break The fast and begin our tangled Hysteria. I am parched, Always, So parched, Around a man's body, The torso turns Me over and on, I blink green Like heaven's traffic lights. You, Always red, Hesitate to start, tuning finely, To "spoil things," but I, Incorrigible, Toil with no breakpads, My skin, Flannel comfort Emotions Reversible