Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Prime

I'll construct a rhyme
Make you a drink, extra lime
Let's text, say, prime-time?

The grass looks green here
But don't you prefer the beach
I'll wish otherwise

Don't forget that your
keen brown telephoto eyes
sees what we can't see

Your simplicity
No wonder they turn on you
You are the genius

You have no idea
The pile of gold you sit on
You can betray me

You saw raw beauty
Don't ever stop looking in
Wish I saw it first

Too much frequency
was reciprocity to me
Beat before the play

Dare you to adjust
the aperture wide enough
To see what we see

You think you waste time
Your self doubt should be a crime
You're no less than prime

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