Thinking About Special K

The distance between us, I think
is giddy.
I can see your Converse-clad feet.
(I want to brush my hand against yours.)

What are you writing there?
a triplet, an alexandrine
a meter between us.
(Come a little closer baby.)

Hey your eyes are kind of dark
your lines are kind of hard
for this kind of poetry.
(Well you’re pretty pretty sexy.)

But this is my pen,
and this is my paper
and this is my fantasy.
(So this is how I’ll write you.)

And I’ll build a country
I’ll build a garden
I’ll build a castle—
(I’ll make a king out of you.)