Eleven Potato

What Is this Instinct to Kiss You?

What is this instinct to kiss you?

It thrills

Needling like sunheat

While rustling thoughts abound

Abandon to whistling skips thick fast

And sift through feelings

These messy visions create better

More novel worlds

You are a hand passing current

A finger tip in the rapids

We are dumb

As simple as glazed teapots

On liquid spines

We’ve a passion for climbing

And you are roaring spring

 

Written a few months ago, posted now since I can't find time to do some new literary exercise.