rouge

with you,
my mouth was always dry,
and you liked to keep it that way.
i got too stoned to sing,
and couldn’t remember my lines,
when all i wanted was a little 
control.
you figured everything out
before i even knew you,
and i still don’t understand myself,
but maybe you might.
i spoke of the wrong region,
when we talked about where you grew up,
hell if i knew,
but they both started with a k.
i fumbled with my orange peels
and citrus stained my hands,
and legs,
and my fingernails were glowing,
but that was a wonderful taste.
you are a magnet 
and you felt so right to touch,
and not touch.
then you helped me to the counter,
and i crumbled
while you rolled,
and we talked about loves
until i lost my voice.
when you cross the ocean,
and i remain still,
i will think of you so fondly,
and you will remember
how much i fear caterpillars.