Organic Poem

A fork of Organic

You will probably say I’m mad
Oh — Our senses are enchanted formless of matter
your signals confuse my kind
from the head to the feet.

And I choose to make it work out
meeting you, I’m really glad
for you are the dream I once had

I can’t afford to lose a second
of our precious present time,
and I guess things might once go right.

seeing your heart as a mansion
how happy must I be.
for my chest close to thee
I don’t mind them observing we.

I just need somewhere to think
that would be close to great
when staring at you, I can open my heart’s door
your eyes are the keys to l’amour.

when your blue eyes look at mine
I cannot afford to blink
I can see a picture of expansion
the closest organized form after a diamond.