I am wasted on thought-so’s and photo-ops

 
so-so’s and S-O-S cries and the lit flare

 
I burn I intuit I follow your light

 

look at the way you go into the tall grass
 
into it                         you light

 
               you moth

 
look at your shirtless body behind the tall grass

 
look at me on my knees

 
a poem is a lot like a grass stain

 
I want to do what a grass stain does