Tickling each bed of moss, the underground, where human ignorance barely touches us; the sheds of light battling us in our soft, black, velvetine bag. Pull the drawstrings tighter, seal off the mouth of the outside monster to almost a whisper. We can plug our ears with stray buttons, orphan belongings to find voyage in our love.
Let me swim in your mouth, make a home on your teeth where I can admire each fleeing word from your gold lined throats. I can wave goodbye to thrown up anger and set you free, light thick fires on the bead of your tongue (set up camp and warm my hands.) I am here for every part of you.
Feb 5, 2011
Feb 5, 2011 at 9:50 AM UTC
Tickling each bed of moss, the underground, where human ignorance barely touches us; the sheds of light battling us in our soft, black, velvetine bag. Pull the drawstrings tighter, seal off the mouth of the outside monster to almost a whisper. We can plug our ears with stray buttons, orphan belongings to find voyage in our love.
Let me swim in your mouth, make a home on your teeth where I can admire each fleeing word from your gold lined throats. I can wave goodbye to thrown up anger and set you free, light thick fires on the bead of your tongue (set up camp and warm my hands.) I am here for every part of you.
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