No more detention

Follow me to redemption,

I will not judge or mention

My quiet subtle obsession

But, here is my confession:

When you wear

Your hair like that,

Natural in the sun

I justly stare at those tats

That bloom and come undone.

Tell me a story about your You

And tell it with affection.

I’ll listen and when the time is through,

You’ll see your resurrection.

No more misconceptions.

For it is not my intention

To push you in the wrong direction.

Lay with me in sweet oblivion.

We can end the sentence.

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