Buckle those industrial grade safety belts,
we’re about to hit escape velocity,
dumb-struck passion thumpin’ you like one-two one-two,
stage one:
you ‘n me, we ain’t met quite yet,
but you got that windswept valley glancin’ bluff,
‘n I got this sense of adventure,
only a matter of time before it’s me ‘n you ‘n this view.
skin ‘n breath ‘n sounds ‘n hands,
followin’ deep-set lay lines along your form.
you ‘n me,
crystalized breath in the cold.
stage two:
this would be the part where you realize–
I’ve got this quick-set well-kept collection of words,
‘n if you’re in love with me,
it’s only what I’ve been givin’,
‘n that’s bound to strech veil-thin.
re-entry:
we’re gonna burn, burn, burn,
‘n this heat ain’t all train-wreck wracked,
somethin’ about the venom-drip-flesh-rippin’
somethin’ about the hurt ‘n be hurt game of M.A.D.
it’s got it own opiate sort of pull,
I don’t plan on landing.
