Summer at mine

I guess I lost you yesterday
with anger and emotion.

I was acting out at all
the littling things you say.

Things that grow will need manure
occasional shit thrown on them.

They don't do philosophy
to blur all of their edges.

I'd take you any way you are,
not love-crazed, neither am I

A benign Vestal priest
just content in her service.

I'll stake my claim as long as I
may map your skin with kisses.

I'll find a spot there yet unknown
to lay my soothing hands.

Well I think I'll starve a while,
but that might help the growing.

Well looked poison ivy here,
it only burns in absence.

I think I lost you yesterday
and don't know how to undo it.