GTR

Written by: Matt Caliri

Fierce immaculate eyes
And I the round-about move-about
With circus on the mind.
You knew when to punch.
Though I changed the rules
With the touch of my palm on yours.
And then into homeward arms we fell.
Digging up the sun                    
That shone on our hearts,
Where love starts.
Not in the butt.                         
That's for farts.