Am I too much for you? I never am
too much for me, and you seem
for a wonder to be
sometimes even more into me
than I generally am. You make me
reach deep for things to pull
and you move me still
and I just come out with the darnedest
stuff of dreams and glam and fancy, and
of nothing sham. Like a kid who says
the darnedest things, and who wouldn't stop
now for anything
but I worry - never while engaged
in interaction, while we stage
and set and play our schemes
and skits - but afterwards
I wonder why
I gave so much,
and into it.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Anything you have to say - question, critique, interpretation, praise or rebuke - is received with gratitude and interest.
If it looks like spam and contains a link, though, it will not be published. I will cherish it to myself, instead. Thank you!