i was fooling myself, waiting
for the next poem to come so i could,
from my mouth, pour my heart into it.
but then it hit me : why follow the rules,
i could waterpaint or harmonize clay.
better yet, i could pour into lauren's mouth,
allow assonance and alliteration
echo from her palate and tongue.
read our verses from her eyes.
and i could walk away, before returning
for revisions quicker than we both expect.
she could even grab me from the back of my collar,
pull me into her form.
if i was familiar with this medium
and this medium familiar with me.