Red,
And you move around
Your bedroom
Naked.
Red,
Down between your legs
On your head
In my mouth.
Red,
And I get a taste of you
Breathing in your breathing out.
Red,
And we touch
I lick
Every part
Not covered in clothes,
We're naked.
Red,
And morning comes
The room gets heated
Is it the sun?
Is it the fire in your hair?
Between your legs?
Red.

I met a woman through the air,
She listened,
So did I.
She looked at me
Between three bottles of wine,
We smoked cigarettes,
We sat on stairs,
In squares,
And talked to the people that passed by.
She bit me
When she was smelling my neck.
We walked through the city
Hand in hand,
Fingers intertwined,
Talking about dead parents,
Live ones,
She wanted to believe what I said
And she did,
So we kissed
Passionately,
Our souls wept as our tongues met.
I left her when the night was ending
I don't know if the songs I heard were real.

There's a rock
In the ocean
Which I envy,
It's like a tombstone.
A rock that's not always covered
By the Pacific ocean,
It plays with the motion
Of the waves,
Holding its breath
When the water comes,
Like a child going through a tunnel.
Life grows on the rock,
Kelp that help
Holding to the smallest cracks,
Like a bumblebee
Trapped in a web
Heating up in the sun.

There are some hotdog shaped dogs,
They're weird,
Seem made up.
Nasty little creatures,
Vicious,
Rotten.
Ironic in a way,
Probably can't even **** without help,
But they're fast,
They have strong personalities.
I've never met a hotdog
Dog
Who is not creepy,
Their humans are weird too.

Some people live their lives in a slumber,
Eyes fixated on the shows
That show
People living fake lives,
Killing zombies,
Being criminals,
Scottish time travelers
For Christ's sake.

Some eyes look at reality,
Real people
Being fake,
Acting like they wish they were,
But they aren't.

Some people
Don't look at anything,
They have lost their ability
To be amazed
By the tricks of a magician,
Tired of being mesmerized.

I tend to like myself
When beer
And *****
Race through my body,
I can spend more time
With my thoughts,
If I'm cheered by the spirits
Of old yiest
Of old potatoes,
Fermented
Fragmented
A granade,
Two are brought,
In a very happy hour
It's time to be happy.
I'm fond of old me
When I'm happy,
I tend to be more honest
With myself
And with others,
That's why I only lonely drink
Alone.

I'm still uncertain when I have to help others.
My mind tells me secret things
About them.
Sometimes I escape people,
I look away,
Like the Germans did
Towards the campus,
A university
Of injustice.
They thought they were smarter
Than Einstein.

Sometimes children
Acting out,
Teenagers being stood up,
A friend supporting another.
I have an imaginary friend,
He tells me those secrets,
And some wicked ones,
He makes me thirsty,
He makes my brain dry.
The teen doesn't know it yet,
He'll never be more than just a friend.