drunk-suckled

 

suppose you had kissed me then with your wide-eyed, wide-toothed sclera
reigning into a hypersegmented reality where you and I only exist as bodies
to be bathed and  sauteed with pleasure and all orgasms quick paced melodies
and branching into a rhizome filled bacterial larvae and you tell me “it’s never enough…”

not out of chance yet out of some folly of your heart you tied with a string
and you gazed at me longingly my genitilia some sort of bouncing heart beat
that a voyeur’s paradisiacal sonnet had: crept me into the spaces of your monologues

truth is that I am not only a body cremated at pleasure’s pyre on some pole where your lips
touched and gazed and gazed and gazed — I crept up as a vine but I have my trees you don’t know.▬

Speak yer mind

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