Dali

I don’t like milk 
only with coffee
and mainly in
round cups that
remind me
of the direction
my head spins in
when you
talk to me.

My head,
and heart
retired when
you almost
kissed
me
in the street.

My knees
refuse to
hold my body
in protest that
you
should be
holding me.

I want my body
next to your body
with nobody
around.

Won’t you
move into
my heart?

I want
to forget
everybody
that rented it
before you.