She

A summer heat. So divine like fine wine from the beginning of time. It's almost insanity how I can't get you off my mind. I don't do much with my mouth, although I wish to go south. It's more of a spout that seems to be in drought when I see you. My mind grows weary of carrying heavy thoughts. I just wish it would stop, but I can't help it. Because every time I see you my heart gets to stopping, butterflies get to flocking, my mind gets to talking, But my mouth is a spout that seems to be in drought and these words won't come out. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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