St. Vincent

 You, 

I'm a silent fan of you,

A stalker in the night,

Filled with auditory delight.

I wish I may,

and I just might,

send a message of

admiration and 

pleasant surprise.

I really dig your musical tastes

It provides the mind with fruitful escape

to another land of

hope, light and dreams

But, of course,

In this world, 

Nothing is as it seems.

I used to share mixtapes, 

and burned cds, 

and copies of things, 

mostly music 

bustin the mental seams

Because life is short,

And filled with pockets,

Of memories 

And reveries

And shared loves with sockets 

(An allusion to being open,

A stretch,

But I digress)

Long story short,

My brain digs yours,

The wealth of knowledge

And access to

Our shared love

Of tape decks.