I don't trust you, I don't.
I think you're too easy-peasily swayed by the fraying ends of
dress hems, by the tails hanging loosely from the back of girls too
pretty for you, and by your impatient and italicized
I am ready to be swallowed by the massive curls of your body and
I am ready to have my heat (it's all gone to my chest)
recognized standing next to your heat (I can tell it's all in your head)
because the time it has taken for a
has been ex-
I am ready
to not be
But I don't trust you.
I just don't