FREED VERSE

Normally, I'm a caffeine-head.

A couple coffees on a twilighted porch,
some Diet Coke straight down the gullet,
maybe even a Redbull to cap me off 
in place of my Manhattan-dreamin' nightcap.

But with you, my hands are shaky
even without the stimulants.
My toes wiggle in my sneakers at the thought of you
and your curled-at-the-ends blonde hair.
Golden.

The smile you say you hate
and those soliloquies
that make you bite your tongue
at the back of the party--
they make me melt 
straight into the seat
of your broken-down car.

Once an addict, now I'm half-caff,
 with you filling the rest
of my glass-half-full.