My love, she is like a river.

Rolling along,
ignoring the cries of man and chance-
You can't keep her from moving on
but if you get down,
really get down,
down,
then
maybe 
you 
could
tell
that
girl
"how much I love your brain."
Suffer her with the burden of pretending she cares,
that you love her smile, her voice, her brain.

-that she doesn't have to be everything mainstream,
because what she is, is good.
And beautiful,
as mere exposure can only do
something great about a mystery.

I finally understand it,
the secret is mine.

...

....

.....

Too bad it's not a formula you can change,
just something you can understand.

This is how she works.