all too long From the moment our eyes met, I felt a connection, forbidden thoughts, but couldn’t halt their conception. I played with the notion of approaching on the sneak tip, but quickly deaded the thought, too risky, plus beneath it was an air of indecent visions that frequent my mind like a sequence of events that relinquish all attempts to extinguish, my curiosity . . . So I wrote about, and I wrote about it, and I wrote about it, til my notebook pleaded for mercy crowded pages of poetry, pen thirsty . . . Writing, til blisters became braille cheat sheets, discreet speech, mouthing melancholy melodies of defeat and I haven’t even approached you yet. It’s like my pen’s gone schizo-frantic sketching hoop dreams on conflicted canvas, longing to brandish that tattooed heart on my sleeve, temporary infatuation as I watch the henna bleed. Temperance of a punch drunk love, girl I’m watching you.