We Could Watch a Movie
....or I could push back your hair that looks like someone took a straightener to autumn, ignite that feeling when our lips want to touch, and, burning my way through the formalities of human interactions, Trace the outline of a ribcage while there is warmth at my fingertips. Let fever take you, let it sizzle and tickle and spark that religious fervor, and with no god to cool it down, you'll soon feel how heat leads to mischief. I am but a simple artist with a simple passion: Learning how masters forge in the fires of a new year the crackling sensation that hides behind the eyes of you, the masterpiece, smelt from green tea and French vanilla. I am a tactile learner, so if your dad asks you in the morning "Why the smile?" Tell him we burned formalities, and I whispered into your lips for a while.