oNE tWO

rollings

electric is the spark
upper into one two
like fire stamps
pulling down
I, for one, am down
two. three. four.
molten linen or heat rockets
something sent
in between now
this pause
no, we breathe, no, we look, no,
we don't

breath
soft hard present gone
between

and again
no, it's electricity
it's riding soft steel, mouth first
looking at yours saying you want
motioning all stories told
more direct than
butterflies softer than
nothing between us
no thing maybe mid air
with hands for the waiting
to dare
softer than down to settle
down as one might be flat
when we kiss

justam

Sounds like you're in love rollings.