Heatwave

There is a heatwave in my bowels I want to write of it, every detail. So I’ve been looking to the sky waiting for the sea to swallow the sun, To show their is no urgency in matters of love For masterworks take time to be made with sheer precision. There is a lady I want to say my love to this evening, She is green ribbon ticket and her heart is my jackpot, Iron is iron And is only as sharp as what rubs against it So I’ve been tossing and turning with the lust of my heart.... We’ve built a friendship that outshines the city of Pompeii, And now I quiver to the thought of setting fire on her flammable heart, But there is still a lady I want to say my love to, She is the daughter of a carpenter, Her father has designed crutches for the man who is to break her heart, And in my dreams we dance barefoot on grains of sand as I show her the star I am to name in her honor, But this evening there is a lady I want to say my love to, I’m plucking the courage to do so as I write this.