Something like this feeling
My lips utter something in between fuck and would you like a bite of this?
I don’t speak fluent French or my very own gibberish,
Somehow I’m still learning to speak the language of your mind
They say counting helps to relive the mind of stress but I’m not stressed FUCK
I’m accumulated and I never run but my body is running, my mind is running,
My veins, screaming.
All I can do is count.
I know this is crazy, but people count between one to ten
But you make me count even the decimals
I lost myself in thoughts of your freckles
Now I can’t speak in any language,
I just want to listen to you for this second
Maybe even daze at the movement of your lips
They say these thoughts are subliminal, you create this adrenaline. Maybe I don’t make sense at all
But, would you like a bite of this?
















