I love it while
wet with tea;
dreaming dormouse dreams.
I tickle its downy fur.
And it laughs and
I want to put it in
my pocket and
carry it everywhere;
take it out on
lonely autumn nights and
play with her until
relaxed and rested,
content and lost in my
fingers and in my heart.
Drapes in brown &
4 the tongue,
Salt of sea,
air of new &
wet fruit beneath
erected hairs of
the first tree.
Pulp for me?
Spring of life
Pulp for me?
Tell me, if I drink,
am I eternal?
I wish this loneliness
would leave me alone.
I am legally blind, a metaphor for my state of mind
I like to keep people at bay, say, do all people carry dismay?
I look at her *****, it's like a potent revolver
Warm, wet, scratched, and half-seen
I wish I was a problem solver.
Me experimenting with rhymes, beats, and composition. Notice how rhymes entwine and how the lines have a logical structure.
The likes of you I can't describe,
Yet I love to eat between your thighs.
The melody you spake to me
Unfolds my greatest sovereignty.
I crave to quaff all of your spit,
And swallow every drop of it.
Don't cheat me of your tasty flesh,
Those bare and supple ****** *******,
Your eyes that follow my firm gaze,
While we kiss and lick and misbehave.
I need to feel each piece of skin,
Smashing girl and boy parts over and over again.
It's such a treat to eat you whole;
I'm obsessed with eating 19-year-olds.
— The End —