Rough Draft

I’d like to be drafted,
engaged in combat,
in your daily,
mental warfare
that hijacks the magic
in your smile
more often than not,
that detonates
the best of your days
by sunrise.

I’d like to be enlisted
to your wishlist,
maybe two slots below
carob covered moon pies
but no lower
than vanilla wafers.

I’d like to be recruited
to your fondest thoughts;
traffic your memories
into rush hours so long
pleasure will pray
for the nearest exit.
So we’ll detour to touring
the belvedere of your beauty
’til eyes saunter
your sun soaked skin
into paradise…

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