draft, none-too-smooth

my mind has a body of its own
and it's yours: every curvature,
texture and shape takes its place
forcing all other sight and sensation
to one side,

the thought of you fills
every crack in my mind

I don't know the difference
between in-between and underneath
sense
surround
pulse beat
just breathe

I am blood
I am breath
I am thought
you are vein
you are lungs
you are brain

this poem is getting kind of gross and lam.e

If I find a better angle I will try it again!