Me vs Her Desires

They’re telling me their stories.
They’ve practiced their lines.
Their tongues are well rehearsed,
yes, but their writer is sloppy.
I pour more tea in my mug
and my reply is simple "wow"

On the topic of tea,
Homes evening seems to be a poison.
Although when I think of home,
her eyes come to mind
before my next drink.

I like the shade of her skin
and the words on her tongue
so easy to look at and talk to is an understatement.
My hands and the world
have something in common,
they both fill my cup with something bitter but I wonder what she tastes like.

I bet her flavor is the perfect mixture of fresh cane sugar and a new serenity.
I’ve seen her smile
and I’ve taken MDMA before
but I think I know which is better.
She’s a walk in the woods on a sunny afternoon,
the kind where that favorite song
is playing on my headphones
serving as the sound track to the next joint
being lit on my journey.

I’ve spent so many half blazed nights with
blue eyed women and their weird kisses. I’ve drank away mornings
missing people I wrote songs for.
Tonight my cup is half empty
but my heart is full of her.