Settling Into The Crooks

the frequent pull, like off a cigarette, leaving the exact same rush, but nicotine free. i am starting to believe someone like you might be good for me. the dietary need of shattered glass, put altogether, stain glass window complex. you are beautifully distorted. mumble in your sleep, something or other, i wont remember, but i will remember that mumble. sneak a peak, i always am. take the reigns, you're good at that. at seconds i don't expect your urgency, suddenly we become urgent. on the same page. adapting to the surroundings. settling in where we left off. like a dance move i  haven't practiced, music turned all the way up so all the little implications go unnoticed. half hazard frenzy of electric emotions, this could get us into some trouble, trouble for you and i would be good, something good for the soul. shake shake shake shake shake us up. get the timidness out of the system. not really caring about who sees, not really caring about anything but this. this right here. tonight. tomorrow. wherever we be. setting things and each other on fire. do you see the sun? i am blinded by this other system of light - not even looking for it's whereabouts because it doesn't mean much to me. no questions. no answers. just actions, just actions. take the pull of that cigarette and use it's efforts to undress me. not even a smoker, but i think i might need one. replacing the package with the a shirt, a look, two hands, and a sleeping bag. tainted fingers, like a nicotine residue, left behind time idling on the serpents tongue that keeps plunging in and out of our way. the snake might be crooked, or we are finally settling into the crooks.