Okay But What Do I Say?

The poem you wrote missed my heart it had no words of emotional chew. After reading the words, what could I say you'd said them all but they added up to okay. When I slithered over the alphabet, I smelled no phew, grit never stuck, water didn't drip. And then there are the times when my hands kept tapping so fast so furious I just sat back didn't have any more energy and to snip snap clackety-clack was plain wiped out of my self. But the most times I miss the comment and viewed Susie was in love, heart broken, in a stew the eye of the needle, the jump over the moon, the clock ticking all sounded just good, but I had no newness from you when I needed the pain sizzle of lightning, a jigjag jangle against purple while orange daisies danced a jig on the grave of enemy number one boring, ordinary life in a cage with no ale biting tongue no kisses probing into the curls under my toes.