the way you roll off of my tongue
escalating, waving the way you carry on
stumbling me home with
scents of roses, ears full of cologne
two in the morning, kid, it's way past late
the arid lack of you in my mouth
the way you carry on
walking me home with a nighttime presence
or a daytime stare, it's too early for this
a case of you would knock me
far off my feet.
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