how can i escape
his little things?
These little things that i don't know
but know me
like the palm of my head
These little things that i don't assume
Yet, consume me
like the last breath of his last cigarette
like his one lucky number
i always bet on my life roulette
like his fun times on the set
like the first time his eyes and mine met
His little things that i never own,
own me
And as i push, they pull me
like a string free marionette
His little things feel of me
what i am too scared to believe.
His little things grow
and without fire burn me,
The way his lips utter the "s"
my heart blows up in loudest mess
And when he touches his hair
i get scattered in his arousing air
The way his big hands talk
when his eyes to where i freeze, walk
And As his dimples sweetly flash
my juicy lips throw him a kissing bash
Flying smoochies all around
glued to his intimidating blush
my wildest imaginations rush
when he mercilessly to my stares, pose
scratching his aristocratic nose
i listen with him to my heart sings
where to run from His little things?
if all i have are His dear little things
And some big dreams that i dare to chase.
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