Booty Call Love

His poetic mind dances straight through mine, and instantly I calm.

His whole aesthetic. His eyes, his nose, his arms are just a corner on

the piece of paper of the list of why I'm into him.

Distracted from time, I lead myself down a mine into a rabbit hole of lust.

And if you asked, no course I don't trust him but this isn't about us-

I just want to stare at him all week. I've never asked much from this.

We will never have that Bonnie and Clyde love, that "I'm by your side" love.

But fuck me, this last 4 years God knows I've tried, love.

But I'll always be around to lie on your chest, whenever is best for you

on a Sunday afternoon when you're lonely after a long weekend

of telling the next girl that you don't know how to feel love.

Because that's what I do. I want you to feel loved, that "I'll always be here,

even when you're caught up on her" love. I'm addicted to you, prescription drug.

Float in and out of my mind, come and go as you please. As long as you

come back to see me, and squeeze my ass sometimes.

I'll search for peace of mind, whilst I search for the piece of your mind

that you won't let me see. I won't break my back or my heart in the process

as I work through why I'm not good enough for you but you're great enough for me.

So in the meantime, let me bathe in the tropical haze of your 24 hour love

for just one more minute. I know you have soul. I can see you have heart.

I'm just not in it.

X