[ROETHLISBERGER]

Oh, sweet gimmick. Oh, heart felt response.
Meditative conch. Sit indian legged
and flip these cards with me. I would typically
wait. I am your simian ape.
Don't leave.
Talk about things I enjoy. I hope you enjoy them, too.
Lets...plot liminal space. Or...semantics, scattershot, easy.
I hope it's adequate now. I apologize, a maladroit
breathing, as he imagines our Summer set. Teething
on her rind. I would. I would forget a leaflet
I'd write, and drink to speak a piece of my mind.

I was wondering if you'd be my ride.

Oh, heart felt response. Running scared,
I'm not running at all. I'm staying right there,
looking at screens
right thumb to the glare. Contradict, condradict.
Condradict me. I've never met the soothing voice
of a stranger. That would move me. I'm into her interest. Requited, her toothier anger. Let's see how quietly mad it gets. I'd yell. I'd write your tears in words, I'd write boisterous. Clamor. I'd write it calamitous. I'd write to give voice to your langour that screams into the void. To give voice to our anger. Then write nothing at all and soak on the pangs for fuel to write notes with her name.

Oh, sweet gimmick. Be my ride.

Oh sweet gimmick, oh, sweet youth,
let me be,
and hopefully we'll all circle back sometime.