9:12-9:28

Let me prove a point.
Not to you but to me so maybe as a fan I can join.
I get the idea of an artist not accepting the brilliance of his genius.
What’s the big idea tho, I spoke.
She wrote and somehow now it’s a quote.
Let me hear from the crowd, whom amongst us deserves the crown.
Fathom the existence of a random being capable of being of multiple interest.
Swimming in the moment yet the mind is pulling from multiple synapses in an instant.
I.e. the progression of aggressive words.
The taking of one person’s world.
Running thru a mind for all foreseeable time and yet the legs never beg to turn left.
Even outta breath the lungs hung on to the acceptance of stank breath hugs and late night snuggs.
It’s all love.
To my love, thanks for the first eight months.
Plus the sum of those yet to come.
Above one minute, hitting 21 and still within the limit.
Tell me again how you with it.
The knowledge, the intellect, the fights and kissy face texts.
Doing all that it takes and more just to see that same face from when you seen that Starbucks got back the s'mores.
Lean back on the subject of why I wrote this occurrence.
Trying to mold lips into syllables for a consecutive experience.
At the end I’ve used no hands but minds did backflips.
Nine:twelve to nine:twenty-nine.
That’s how wordsmith’s fly.