Panic

I can see you now. You’re in the middle of a pile of flowers.
Purple. I’m guessing your face is relaxed and pleasant. You don’t
want to get out. You like reaching for sun. You like the green of
the air, the purple stains on your chest, neck, and thighs. You
like to be the cause. Your beauty is disrupting-- I’m going to
panic if I don’t get this done. Stop. It. Please go away. My heart
is not steady. My paths are not paved. My mind is a weakness. I’m
going to panic – if you come my way. Your beauty, it unnerves me.
And your soul, it’s too kind. I want to put you on film, but I’m
afraid to be alive. I want to put you in a ballerina box only to
open you in quiet moments. Your sound will fill and warm me. Your
dance, I’ll feel in my toes. And when you look to me I lose my
words. When you leave I start a new chapter. If you stay I couldn’t
go. If I see you I’m going to panic. So if I die promise me you’ll
still marry me. Th