cough syrup
drops: from your sullen mouth,
gapes and invites the flies to make their
home. Your mind is a maze
making me yearn for it,
How do you tick?
What lyrics stick in your head?
Where do you hide your dead?  
Flies flicker, stuck to the sweetness
of the syrup bottle
I am similarly enamored
captured, struck by your
****** in, by the potential for sin.
for the taste of the sickly sweet
cough syrup on your skin.