Unbalanced.
World spinning, feet frantic, I must get to you.
The need frightens me.
I am nearly undone.
Dangerous.
Oh, you are that.
Lovely, lovely to me and awful.
Touch you, hold you.
Transparent.
What I will do for you, the smell of you,
The blood racing through my veins for you,
Carrying bits of you to bits of me…
Melding.
Some laugh, some shake heads and pity.
It makes me not one bit less enamored of you.
Thanks to you I am getting nowhere.
I am getting there fast.
Man on Bicycle in the Cold Lighting a Cigarette
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Feel free to critique the poetry. I employ a sophisticated thick hide technology.