spin
when you spin
the world on fire
like the whole of your arms
would overflow
with love
and hate
and all the pretty
lying things
that lazy
hazy
crazy days of summer brought
(or wrought)
upon us all,
i think of snapping cards
and old men
that don't understand
the crisp
clean
line of light
that pierced our hearts
and tied us together
on that merry-go-round
where nobody really
felt
the spin
like you and i.