There were sparks on her breath
Where the fire's caress had left her
tongueless,
the yolk of youth spat the
wrongness of existence.
Take the high road
***** resistance.
****** it's folds of fat.

The guilt of passivity sat
dead, and diseased, in
her throat
Invisible moat cutting into
face,
erase her social security
and the soft sand slopes of
unmarked dark purity.

The girl's existence fought
clarity
An apple lacking search
for sanity.

Once inside her mind, the girl
fought free:
she cupped the face of maturity
and licked his salty lips
her tongue scenting soulless spit
upon a torn pervaded face.
Ripping a loveless, humbled, embrace
into ashes, her
imagination cymbal clashes in
realities orchestra.

Shooting sighs worked up
her vertebra. Her lips, as
faithless as Cressida, lay
curled and cut forlorn
at her feet. Her tangled
continuation a
mangled, drawn out
defeat.

Life force-fed her a caps-locked
delete, a sunken voice sang of
soft sleep.

But the stump of a tongue
pressed
Repeat.