My thoughts droop like low
hanging fruit, pairs as sweet
as the ripe nectar inside.
Sway my mind i beg of you.
Words blister and rot in the sun,
oh how they ache for the shade of
your common-sense and calm.
I flock to your shade to quieten the
buzz amidst the haze - the scorch that
burns and flares the flesh inside.
You're the breeze that tempers the tempest,
the relief of a cool breeze in the sharpness
and sting of summer heat.
Sway my mind of only this, please.
It's the only thing i'd ever ask of you.