sniff sniff

when poems slow

who knows

the corridor of marching thought

penned

behind the corral of teeth...



when

he listens

like an inanimate...

to her sweetness unfold

and doesnt obviously leap away or forward...



beware of the brewing adoration

bubbling in a pot

covered by his tongue...



prepare

the exits to run



while you open the entrance

to accept the come.



its here

under the nose

you use to judge civility...



an unkempt yet beautiful thing



disguised as what you hate the most,

its slowly revealed as love.



discovered only by your welcome,

tasted only if you eat its hand,



everything humanity wants

is responsibility and a plan.