I always say the city looks so perfect at night, on the five headed south bound downtown where I can see all the city lights. Mesmerized with some intentions of inspiration, thoughts flowing through my brain ready explode but there’s no button for the detonation. Let the count down begin, but for my sake please start from ten. I want to soak it in, I want to feel alive once more all the way to my very end.
Some types of blood arrest this mouth. Yes, some types of lips breathe fire and shout. Some types of women shuck men of their gain, then some women run hurriedly back to their beaches again. Some people catch anons between their legs. Others swallow vespers BeSpoke by the lust that they crave. Then envelop Gonzo love on the tip of their quill, if only boiling themselves for five minutes to ensure themselves potable.
I live for the taste of rust. I sit in the second-to-last seat on the back-left side of the bus. And I greet her legs with my aching skin, touch my fingertips to my lips to prove that I’m alive to myself.
If her scent was obeyed by royalty. I’m traversing the world if only once more as I’m praying that she’ll see me. I’m praying for our faces to believe in we. And her taste is the bang that is big from the beginning of time, one twist of the fresh zest of a lime, while the years are turned back into the furnace of time. I’m craving faces and loves I once saw. I need to feel the skin tailored for the female gods. I’m certainly loud and catering forth, I turn up the pre, and force the gain and amp up. If only to be noted again, in a bed with my goddess together we’d spend, every moment together in eternity. Immortality conceived of the beasts we achieve. Trampled by the light and tortured by the sound of ourselves. Please won’t you help me to not be forgotten myself? I’m pursing my lips and shaking my hands, I’m jumping off rooftops and eating mouthfuls of sand. Is our hero here or has she she run? Help me find Britni West, my one true love. She’s in California last I had a taste. It’s only everyone else that I lay chaste. With her I’m on top of the world, I’d quaff her spit and champion her skin. There is nothing nor no one that could come between. She’s the only one that is for me, and I’m the only he she’s told me.
I want to see the west coast feel ***** SanFran sidewalks on my feet and redwood forest air inside me I want to glide the coastline and drink expensive smoothies fall a few times surfing and laugh until I'm hurting I want to see the west coast and forget about my worries I know it sounds redundant but California calls me I want to see the redwoods and look up and feel small I want to know the desert and meet a blonde haired boy I crave the west coast breeze the sand between my toes there is something out there I am missing what it is yet, I do not know