monday afternoon and
my lover is studying;
i am wondering if he remembers that time when
we learnt together the geometric shapes -
circled are his lips when
the sun draws himself upon them;
i am jealous.
earth has his own anatomy -
them science people called him "pear";
maybe the fruit was before the planet
or maybe the planet grew out of it,
which makes us pearestrials, but
i wouldn't know;
i don't do science.
i don't even do words -
words are too academic sometimes;
it's propestorous (exclamation mark)
and my fingers are only made to waltz with yours;
i'm sorry when i stumble,
you know my forefinger is high heel sensitive;
there's too many is in the world.
monday's moving towards evening
my lover's still studying
earth is still a pear
there's Pretty Woman on tv
the food is not getting any warmer
my french will always be poor
kiss me tonight.