To peel off your soft skin, mold it
into armor, let the blood gush out
until it fills your cup, and you gulp it in
as medicine; to pluck out your silenced
tongue, watch it slither across blank
pages, as it paints them scarlet-sweet
like your heart; to **** the trauma, bury it
under words, but make it immortal
on the same paper.

Some may say that the greatest treat in life is candy;
the temptation of its sweetness longingly lingering on the tongue,
an unsung reliever.
But temptation itself is the only true greatest treat;
the red heat carried through all senses,
marked as the sweetest sin.

She wore a tiara
           of pearls

        dripping from
her forehead.

As one fell on her tongue,
   She licked  her lips..

Tastes like love...

(I snuck out of the house yesterday.)

Quietly,
Don’t make a sound.
Shh.

The window holds my reflection in it,
It tells me,
“Don’t do this.”
“This isn’t you.”

I ignore the pleas.
I unlatch the bars,
And lift the window open.
It squeaks.

Be quiet.
Don’t make a sound.

I pull the screen up along with the window,
I squeeze through the opening.
This is it.

I feel the grass under my feet,
Freshly misted with dew.
The crickets chirp,
“What are you doing?”

I continue on.

I run through the grass,
Leaving footprints behind as evidence.

My feet hit the pavement.
Rocks digging into skin.
The night renders me blind.

The moonlight shines down on me,
“Where are you going?”

I reply,
“To see my love.”

I’m half way down the street.
I feel you there with me.
I feel you warm right there.

The dogs caged in the neighbors yard howl,
“Turn back! You shouldn’t do this.”

I look at them,
With finger over lips.
Don’t make a sound.

I reach a slow.
Legs burning, out of breath.

A car slowly hums behind me.

I get in.

The seat hot against my thighs.

“Buckle up.”

I comply.
The engine turns over,
And everything that was forward is now behind.

We pull into an abandoned parking lot—
You know, the one by the 66 Diner.

The car stops.
Seats creaking,
You turn to me.

Windows fogged,
With your tongue pressed to the inside of my cheek.

Car dark,
With my tongue pressed to the inside of your teeth.

Quick,
Be quiet.

I have to be back by dawn—
No one can know that I left.

‘Till then.
The night is ours, Chase.

My thoughts
Paint brilliant colors,
But
Chemical venom
Swells my tongue
And silence
Fills my mouth.

I want to be tongue tied with you,
Not the way you’d think.
Not stumbling over words we could only dream of how to pronounce,
Not stuttering over the phrase ‘I love you’,
Not spitting out each other’s names every time we reach a high.

I want to be in knots with you,
Tongues twisted into each other,
I want to drool with you.

I want every word to come out in mumbles,
I don’t want anyone to ever understand us.
(Then again, they never did.)

I want to feel disgusted with ourselves,
I want to taste your last meal,
And I don’t care what it was.

I want to inhale your exhale,
I want to tangle uvulas together.

Sick, isn’t it?
Revoltingly simple.

I want our teeth to clash,
I wouldn’t even complain if we chipped one.
(The government can pay for our fillings.)

I want to feel your every taste bud tasting mine.
I want to do a dna test with your spit,
Only to find out that we were past life lovers in each other’s bodies.

I want to scare everyone who dares to look our way,
We can mumble and groan like zombies.
We can grumble and moan like newlyweds.

I want to feel spit dripping down our chins,
I want to look stupid with you.

We can be all knotty,
Just slip yours into mine.

(Tongues, I mean.)