how your heart is wired

My tongue is scaling the north face of your neck
and we’re glaring like warriors;
but I’ve a feeling you won’t look at me that way
in the morning.

Cus lately, you seem less sure of this thing,
you’re like Bambi on ice
and there’s something in the flash of your arms
a certain longing.

Kick the can. I can’t see you now behind the
temper and ire.
Mr Wolf knows what time it is
he says, “It’s dinner time.”

I don’t know what you’re carrying
or how your heart is wired
but there’s a dangerous ticking-
I’ll cut the red one…

No, the blue one…

I’ll cut the red one. I’ll cut the blue one. Raking over the embers
and what I’ll come acros..
Raking over the embers
and what I’ll come across..

Is that you? Combing your hair?
And is that me? Eating an egg?
And I’ll be there.
Are we there?
Are we there?
Like John-Boy said

my tongue is scaling the north face of your neck
and we’re glaring like warriors
but I’ve a feeling you’ve won’t look at me that way
(a feeling you won’t look at me that way)
a feeling you won’t look at me that way
in the morning.

Is this how it goes?
Are these the final throes?

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2 thoughts on “how your heart is wired

  1. Pingback: how your heart is wired

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