Dr. L'Ling

Don’t give me no hand me down love

It don’t wear the same.

I want love that looks good on

with a fit that screams my name,

yet I was afraid

Of becoming a casual business man

on matters of the heart.

Of becoming a casual business man

or something even worse.

Watched you get in the taxi,

your hands on another man.

You must be insane

if you think I’ll stand back.

Wide eyed and so discrete,

a maintenance touch,

makes prose from poetry

and it don’t mean much.

A maintenance touch

and it don’t mean much

Can you get enough?

Is there enough?

I found out your escape routes.

Can you get enough?

Is there ever enough?

Are these your escape routes?

touch me sweet

forget the rest

your hooks feel so right

dug in my chest