just when u think are no mas/no more
love poems left in your receptacle
turn on the radio and here comes
the love song trickle and then an avalanching ball rolling
soon you're balling too
soon you're bawling too
soon your words are...brawling
praying to no one/anyone who will listen
busted bent, fervor'd and fevered,
never end this compulsory breaching need,
never end this compulsion pleading skilling,
**** this cursed prediction
when desperation takes over,
succeeding where success is fleeting,
and failure is a bully boy's beating
from fists of frustration
for obvious reasons,
she pronounces,
write me a love poem
so fresh! that it is renewable,
that comes without an expiration date,
living in the small fridge in my head
so when I pull open that door,
where our paths sure to cross,
will fully feed my need
to be revived, reminded,
what I mean to you,
how I am your milk and your water,
how to juice you,
arouse fruits of desire of plum and cherry colors,
in our touching heads,
where we meet,
is the meat of you,
is the meat of me
let me find you
in the mid of night,
straining,
staring at foods,
tasting inspirations for giving you,
then me,
the kindest satisfaction
of a love poem
cease this brawling come to bed read me your newest
with those chattering dancing speaking fingers
feed me lovely poems
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 12:34 PM UTC
just when u think are no mas/no more
love poems left in your receptacle
turn on the radio and here comes
the love song trickle and then an avalanching ball rolling
soon you're balling too
soon you're bawling too
soon your words are...brawling
praying to no one/anyone who will listen
busted bent, fervor'd and fevered,
never end this compulsory breaching need,
never end this compulsion pleading skilling,
**** this cursed prediction
when desperation takes over,
succeeding where success is fleeting,
and failure is a bully boy's beating
from fists of frustration
for obvious reasons,
she pronounces,
write me a love poem
so fresh! that it is renewable,
that comes without an expiration date,
living in the small fridge in my head
so when I pull open that door,
where our paths sure to cross,
will fully feed my need
to be revived, reminded,
what I mean to you,
how I am your milk and your water,
how to juice you,
arouse fruits of desire of plum and cherry colors,
in our touching heads,
where we meet,
is the meat of you,
is the meat of me
let me find you
in the mid of night,
straining,
staring at foods,
tasting inspirations for giving you,
then me,
the kindest satisfaction
of a love poem
cease this brawling come to bed read me your newest
with those chattering dancing speaking fingers
feed me lovely poems
