need to get it here .

you chew .
& knaw .
& caress .
scratch & scrape at the seams of my mind . tick . tick . tick . all i hear . i know my brain will explode eventually, im just waiting for the pressure to tickle the lining of my skull. you do that to me. You're that monsoon that frets my stomach, but the waves that ease my soul. that sensation from warm sheets fresh out the dryer ? you know . hot, new, dry, free of worries and moist. simplistic & real, i know my bargain . i indent into you like clay, please let it dry . The minds of the flat love to say 'wet'. it tickles their inner-fifth grader. but we're better. you've been there, done her ... that ? Our minds are woven . front to back, fibers touching the boundaries of what we are "supposed" to say . You stick to me , appreciated .

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