I've been recollecting myself
like mirrors in passing portraits I am only what I see,
The edges into the mast consumption,
I am only, What I be.

Elasticity on curled lips
gently curdling upon a crooked smile
deviant,
irrelevant,
exuded into the inevitable finesse of ones self righteousness,
conceded.

Bead down
sweating across the lips of another,
exuberant, enthralled friction of skin,
her and I,
the Devil,
Let me in.