Like sunflowers, the audience turns toward
your sugared, black-coffee voice, as do I.
but I am not one of them; I am myself.
Surely you can see me,
sparking, shedding scintilla.
When I am finally next to you,
you must hear me fizzing and crackling.
I want you to kiss me.
You call me darlin, say it’s good to see you,
slide your shine away.
Your eyes are first to take flight.