Pick Your Poison

Self-fulfilling Prophecy

I am ready to sit in the grass,
and hold your head in my hands;
I am ready to consume you
I can already see the smile
that you only show in my direction
When I notice you there.
I can feel your concern
pressing against my skin
from every possible direction.

Again, with the same swollen pace
I will trust your smile
Like I've trusted the rest.
Seeing you writhe before my open eye,
I will move from the past
And meet your returning limbs with my own.
Time wouldn't shelter us for too long,
It would seem to the cautious observer,
But we'll fight to prove them wrong.