The Way it Ought to Be
it’s firing on all cylinders
the way i think of you,
a master machine
with gears in between
to take me down the road.
it runs like Persian silk
leaves me weak in the knees
and i’m still falling asleep
in front of you like a TV.
we are what we are
and who we want to be.
you are me in my heart
and i keep looking for a place
to rest my feet.
so follow me to the last great monument,
follow me to salvation
to a rug burn tragedy.
i will love you
like you should be loved
i will hold you close and free,
take your breath away
rock you into being.
these are my songs
this is my life
this is the way it ought to be,
your head against my chest
a three beer lullaby.
follow me home,
follow me home
i want you always
to be touching me

—Poem by Emily Smith-Miller
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—Background photo by Doriana Marialatest jordans | Entrainement Nike