Lyric № 119856
Slowing - or, A Love Poem with Eggs and Short Lines
My love, she has
astonishing ways
of slowing, when
the eggs are done
and I'm bug-spas-
ming in my skin -
and who ever was
who liked cold eggs?
My love, she tips
the change-dish off
the curio, when
she'd rather stay in
she frets, she doffs
her dress again
or finds my lips
not fast enough.
She says, don't think me a fool for this;
I know exactly what time it is.
5 comments
For my part, yes, there was a change of heart. Right around the dress-doffing and kissing part.
'Don't think me a fool for this
she says
I know exactly what time it is.'
Unless you consider the two-line consistency a holy must?
'or find my lips
not fast enough. She says
don't think me a fool for this
I know exactly what time it is.'
I love the change of heart, I knew there was another
side of you that was senitive
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