Felt Tip

Folder: 
Future

Your felt tip makes my mind trip

Your felt tip makes my hips slip

Your felt tip makes me thirsty for a sip

I felt your tip on our first trip, down south

Your plume pistons in my inkwell

You write your name indelibly across my heart

Your felt tip makes my knees dip

Your felt tip makes my teeth grit

Your felt tip makes my legs split

I felt your tip and got a new start

Your felt tip drew me close

A breath of fresh air

A cool breeze

Your felt tip puts me at ease

Your felt tip makes me beg, please

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Response for Jazz in the Gardens. This is the poem she sent back to me and she asked me to post it, because she was in a dreamscape of her own. 

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