fill your notebook
with found objects
from lost hearts,
and plant a kiss
on/in me,
from cheek to shining sea,
draw a picture
and give it eyes,
then write a song about its lashes,
spiral-sided,
confided,
I hope you dance,
yourself is the steam
in my seamless dreams,
everything I have seen,
no cold period,
just a hot forever,
and many many (many!) tentacles.