Carefully stacking my composure,
Neatly.
Thoughts on anything but you.
Yet you pry into my stomach
And shake things up.
You floor your awesome self into my carefully stacked
Composure
Sending my knees to dance
Eye saw to glimmer with anything that looks like fun,
And lips to curl up and laugh at our amusement.
I want to hop into the bucket seat
And drive,
Race time,
And beat it
With you,
Because when I'm with you I feel I can
And do everything else in between.

--Michele Whittemore