I’m no poet
Though I play with words
The same way you play me

My silent need to provoke
To earn what?
Since any attention is positive

And neither is something I gain from you

I went out looking for you today
Through red and yellow of spring
Though imagined

Almost if seeing grayscale
Was something of lock and key

How many of you would agree

We tie our own laces in knots
So that we continue to fall
For that kind of love

That kind of love
We promised ourselves we’d find

© MjBlasco