Four-Twenty

​two eyes
​gel-glossy globes, slit-thin and
crimson-rimmed and spider-webbed
from terpene-topped tokes of
sweet sensi smoke,
green grass grown gas -
inhale. now
feel the verve, now voluminous,
now vibrating in your veins
now buried in blood and bone
now settled atop soft skin
now, I understand
why I get lifted off your lips
why your finger tips
feel like a god
is making music through you
and I am muse
and melody
and microphone
all in one.
i thought it was the weed
but
it's your love that gets me high.