What is it the wind whispers on your cheek my finger tips long to hear What effulgent echoes of sunrise render each tear What facsimile of midnight your finger tips whisper back What ancient childhood secrets parade behind each eyelash.
Oh, how my fate lifts by the curve of your hips How condemned I am hell-bent by the swerve of your lips
Such language infinitely dancing loosely upon your palms Such remedies recited by your resting tongue Your mandible sacred where my universe began Oceans devoured between us by our patience
One thing to remember: I know your name. I know everything about you. I know your smoking habits, drinking habits, and I was forced to know your sleeping schedule. You have the ***** to treat me the way you do? You laugh when I beg for mercy? Well, when I rise up like a GOD, you will be the ******* begging for mercy. Try me. again.