how i’ve longed to hear that phrase i was so eager to watch as it fell out of your mouth gracefully as each letter dripped out beneath you i stood catching them on my tongue swallowing them down into my blood stream one by one
Stop looking at me as if I’m some - thing to swallow up or spit out. A berry, black, swollen ready to be chosen for your consumption. I sour on your tongue, assaulting your taste buds because you thought the only - thing that mattered was the purplish black, the juice that produced for your pleasure, my ripe, plump bumps, my green hands outstretched ready and there, for you? Still you pluck and **** and stare and **** me up with your barren compliments stripping my sweet substance one by one by one, you extract it out of me
swallowing has become a chore these days, like mowing the lawn in the rain, i hear my gulp when the room is silent and it sounds violent, my ears ***** and swollen waves squeak, am i apprehensive of deliberate rhythm?
my esophagus is as tight as a noose, so the shrink prescribed drool, but i'd rather swallow than daze, and deny the fog entrance through my maze.