Elephants are my
favorite, but I
hate giraffes

I don't trust
the horns
on their heads

Or how they
coerced evolution
into upgrading
their necks, legs AND
tongues -greedy
little *******-

Just eat from bushes
or averaged sized
trees like a normal
******* herbivore

I **** with
you heavy

Why else would
I be here?

But we ain't locked in,
you make sure of that

you filter yourself dark,
skin shining on the floor
of your hotel room.

your hold your camera up,
white-painted talons
wrapped around your phone.

you dusk your skin and
dawn your face. night your
body and make you late.

tipping your face down
and letting the water
fall, you want likes at home.

Don't touch me
Wait, don't go
My mind has called the rebels and
I'm scared to be alone

Hold me
Quiet though
Wrapped in your shelter I feel like I'm home

The **** of some text
is not in the ******
or the lips of a lover

What pleasure resides
in the text? Is it in its being
written or read or dead?

It radiates from the turn of
the page, the rest of some
sentence forgotten in sleep

All along in my tongue mother comes she stays for quite a long time. it was all in my head when i decided i had my own taste because i certainly don't, i had been so tasteless before i was growing out of a broken moon in mother's funny womb.

My tongue is the ungrateful one. at least i can appreciate the fact that i once had purity but when in this silly world nothing greater than intensity and dirt all over the place so, basically mother saved me. she'd put all her might on my tongue and god it is definitely infinite!

Now stomach is exhausted and head understands too much, now and then they both ache for each other, they both are trying to ruin me again and burn me with jealousy. for all what i've done is mother's doings, for all what i've tasted is mother. honestly i can't remember anymore how neutral tasted like, how my own tongue tasted like.

All along in my tongue mother has been lazy and a queen. nothing moves her except i remove my own tongue, but twist is she only comes and stays and she never goes. (god isn't this pointless, what use of your face if i can't see it, if my feet keep dragging me further from your back, if my glasses keep shattering and my eyes full of sand?)

(Nothing is keeping me away from you anymore, even when mother nags in my tongue and sour thing meddles with my throat.) i have been emptier before but nothing matters anymore, i was here before i am not, now i must have known the taste i've lost because of mother or not because of her, it's actually nothing at all.