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Love Can Be Insane
Like Your Crazy Thighs
Don’t read into it too much, dear Asha, but how deep my love for you goes cannot be measured.
Yet I wouldn’t swap out the carrot for the stick, there’s no way to coast through life on the back of an absolute.
I ordered sausage to be delivered but the guy said there was none as far as selection, then the sun poked through, and a brave butterfly took to the air.
You once lived in a desert, you told me, completely absent from the world and where simplicity reigned.
But you were too fond of infrastructure it seems and so you returned to us without even giving us any time for preparation.
My definition for your body contains the words hallelujah and amen, seeing as though we’re on the brink of exhaustion spiritually.
Also, the earth is more solid here, and the playful nerve of the city that runs up and down its spine is no coincidence.
See, we’ve heaped a ton of resources on making it work for us, at least in terms of finance, and if they were to appoint me ruler, I’d put up billboards illustrating nothing but your sexy legs.
You needed a break from life you said, but I’d bet my index finger or a quarry of marble against the possibility that you can ever escape into anything…
