Am Bien(Too much Oh)

She fears I am pulling away and I am, at talk of me and her and us, because we and our stuff are just another boring no hope for a subject, compared to us rubbing minds and making sparks and throwing it all down on the come line. I meant like craps but I know from spots, handprints and pulled hair, not stopping when so commanded not to. The crooks of arms and legs akimbo, with a head lying on your shoulder as you stroke her hair in the aurora of afterglow.