You, madame, are a weapon of mass destruction

I would love to read the instructions to the construction of your body

But their destruction by god, evident in the astronomical odds of a copy,

Means I must read you as you are.

Reverse-engineering every inch of you

The scent of you leaves my mind steering

My body closer to ya.

I wanna be the holster to ya

My pretty little pistol

The anatomy of your kiss though

Is something more than official

It’s a poor man strikin’ it rich so



I stutter, melt like butter, heart beats flutter when you say anythang

But especially my name. There’s some kinda flame burnin in my heart.

Warmin’ up my blood for other body parts, makin my face flush… Wait no I mean blush

Wait No I can’t blush, but my cells’re all oxygenated

If we was livin’ in a box we still made it

Cuz as long as there’s a WE.

There’ll always be a reason for me.

So keep beatin’, heart

Until you can’t feel hers too

Only then can you shut down

Wind my life’s sun down

But SOUL, you’re job’s never through.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s