nice work if you can get it

by
I know that intentionally, you made me forget my grammar
by coming with the recipe for only one medication, — Love!
And the problem with the warning scheme was simple... —
both, the cure and adverse reactions, offered wings, to travel
with the air of fantasy, enough to find some beautiful visions
and to make me reborn in your whispers, when you carry me
on your mind, as if I'd be a little girl in the poetry's drugstore,
not the kind of cool town woman who takes out your breath,
doing nice work if you can get it, I'm jazzing in your blood.

poetic audience

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