I will teach you the language of this tongue while our bodies are pinned against the wall.

You will teach me the language of your hips, as they move like rolling tides across my lips.

We tend to blindly give it our all when we know it will be over after nightfall.

Together we will create a language of our own, a mixture of heavy breaths and soft moans.

I receive your native tongue
like a desperate missionary--

letting it run over my teeth,
stroking the roof of my mouth,
and dancing with my own foreign entity.

I come to you aching
to inhale your exhale,
place my lips to yours.

In the diaspora of spit
from your mouth to mine,
deliver unfathomed riches
of love and wisdom

into my trembling body.

you danced
in dark silent streets
letting icy snow
fall like tacks
on your tongue

caught in a dreamy pirouette
your arms out wide
in surrender to the heavens

beyond pale streelights
your eyes to the sky
reigning down upon you

snow falling like
a slurpee spilling onto the tile floor
of a 7-Eleven
our boots sloshing through it

your three-year absence
from it
ends with a nostalgia
and an innocence
you felt you lost

yet it descends upon you again
as you twirl
under snow like tacks
on your tongue

The most common lie
That has tumbled off my tongue
**Im tired, thats all

when the words are hard to express out loud
or other people just can't seem to understand
I write to release all my anger or frustration
grabbing a pen or a sharpened pencil in my hand
leaving smudged lead or wet ink on my finger tips
scribbling jotting down all the thoughts that attack
conquering my mind trying hard to escape my lips
releasing emotions that pull me down or hold me back
the knotted tongue of confusion is loosen now untied
I'm able to climb out from the depths of the dark pit
grabbing Life's sturdy rope that depression tried to hide

... For you couldn't have inflicted the venom

If it weren't for this little snake you call tongue

All its twisted dreams and sickest intentions

Just one utter to send the deadly pang...

after the ***** red day
her dry tongue bruises
the evening
with burning blue songs

You lick your lips,
and your tongue slips back behind your teeth.
Just like a sword,
being tucked back into its sheath.
Now, you are preparing for yet another day,
to come out of a dual victorious.
But oh, my vicious opponent,
one of these days your words won't leave me injurious.

It is always there
           I can feel it all the time
              Like a permanent aftertaste
               Lying there in my taste buds
            A pinch of something like salt
         Adding flavour to all my reds
      Like a breath of ice cold air