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subterrain treehouse
there is the need
to destroy all monsters
of desire
speed boats whisper outside my window
like mosquitos on steroids
how could you possibly know
this is about you
when the nut has
yet to hit the ground
i will make up rumors
silly, wonderful things
about how your kiss is
gazpacho in august
how the window fan
will blows summer dusk
over your flesh like barley
wiggling each of your
hair follicles
the exotic dance of summer and
you will wear hello kitty pasties
and i will say you are innocent
and twardry all at once
never revealing
to what degree
of either
