Drug Of Choice

When we hold hands
Across a table of roses;
Then your warm and selfless
Legs contact mine underneath it.

You may as well buy me a dress.

When I relax all muscles,
And drop my shoulders at gravity;
Then I show myself off
For the spineless wimp that I am.

It loosens some bolts of my mind.

When we make out and
I respect the Twin Towers;
Then you take my hand
And lead me through sacred places.

You emasculate me much.

When I let you converse
With my subconscious;
Then we kiss and
Synchronize our souls.

You threaten my individuality

If I dismantle you,
Each bit beats me.
If I bunch you up again,
The wit bill hits me.

For that, I love you between nine and ten.

©Herbert Uba 2017

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