"anaconda" poems
It was the twilight of the iguana.
From the rainbow-arch of the battlements,
his long tongue like a lance
sank down in the green leaves,
and a swarm of ants, monks with feet chanting,
crawled off into the jungle,
the guanaco, thin as oxygen
in the wide peaks of cloud,
went along, wearing his shoes of gold,
while the llama opened his honest eyes
on the breakable neatness
of a world full of dew.
The monkeys braided a ******
thread that went on and on
along the shores of dawn,
demolishing walls of pollen
and startling the butterflies of Muzo
into flying violets.
It was the night of the alligators,
the pure night, crawling
with snouts emrging from ooze,
and out the sleepy marshes
the confused noise of scaly plates
returned to the ground where they began.
The jaguar brushed the leaves
with a luminous absence,
the puma runs through the branches
like a forest fire,
while the jungle's drunken eyes
burn from inside him.
The badgers scratch the river's
feet, scenting the nest
whost throbbing delicacy
they attack with red teeth.
And deep in the huge waters
the enormous anaconda lies
like the circle around the earth,
covered with ceremonies of mud,
devouring, religious.
18k
Magick 13
My rhymes periglacial slash through foes ****** leavin' corrupted maxillofacial stay laced with the coco
Til my nose blow out nothing but deadly keys makin' monopolies at ease see my desert ease
Could make the devil freeze with the beautiful ephipanies laid though my flow cinematography ain't no fictions here G
My pedigrees been deadly since the age of three
First sips of Hennessy pictured a glare of my enemies stories of me biblically
Born a David killin' Goliath's society defiant
Knock down the orders in the cornered borders
Of the Jesuit I'm the black Pope
Elope to the celestials gods that rope
My mind hanging on to the highs of the ****
Better yet the marijuana sneaky as an anaconda
Once I tighten cells begin biting
Fighting tryna stay alive like Bee Gees
Fiendin' for my lost dynasties kin to Nefertiti since I ****** on *******
As a baby I got a taste of the universe thoughts deeper than a hearse words hurts exciting flirts beating all perks through my vengeful works
My alias an archangel leave the game triangled Titan mentality dribble like Cousy so you might loose me?
Sick with the tracks axe minds like Moses to the red sea knockin' down Rome legacy
Back on top like the greatest plot dimensions traveler like Bishop
Capitalizin' land plots I be the Black Wieshaupt
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 9:03 AM UTC
Goddess of virility suckles me
to ******
Her legs stiffen…
to acute angles.
Toes, ballerina firm
make her
body—
levitate from the bed.
A smile reveals…fangs
the tips of which
are barely…touching
my ear.
The lizard tongue hisses in ecstasy
revealing ancient—spiritual…bliss
mystics could only
speculate of.
Her anaconda legs
wrap—
around my back
as her fingernails
embed into
my spine.
When I yank
Her hair
Her eyes
Scream inside out.
Our bodies—
Swimming in
An ocean of ravenous
Liquids pulsating from our pores.
Sopping hair clings
to our foreheads
we suddenly realize—
A new shape is invented.
We make a sound so primal
inside each other’s mouth
as her jaws snap down
to my neck—
both bodies rigor-mortis stiffen
as the mountains collapse around us
and the sky is ripped open as a tsunami
billows down into a wave of exhaustion.
The wind cradles us,
Back to the earth
We split,
Admiring a new continent
We created.
Our limp bodies—
numb from the velocity and suggestions
resign to the crater
we call a bed.
We smile, simultaneously,
looking past
our brains,
realizing…
in this moment
we, are one.
Jul 23, 2011
Jul 23, 2011 at 7:18 AM UTC
let me equate my genitals
to a predatory animal
to illustrate my ****** prowess
and mating standards
in song:
my vampire squid don't
my vampire squid don't
my vampire squid don't want none
unless you got an anaconda ***
my disdain for your personality
and general mentality
is also strong, simply because:
i like *big ***** and i cannot lie
you other sisters can't deny
that when a boy walks in with a six pack
and a hose thing in your face
you get wet
disembodying objectification,
stereotypical representation,
hedonistic utilitarianism,
and *** ed with some rhyme:
black boy sippin' white wine
put my fist in him like a civil rights sign
then he came like aaaaah! (1)
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
There's a serpent around me,
Coils me close.
Rough skin scratching,
Holes in my coat.
It's rolling like waves of sand paper,
Tearing the life outta me.
But the closeness,
Reminds me of a time of peace.
Funneling poison down my own throat,
Grind my flesh on jagged rocks and roads.
Walking on hot stones to the motivate my step,
Putting on my anaconda scarf to keep warm from the daft.
If I am hurting,
Then how can you hurt me more?
Can't be drowning,
If I'm beached at shore.
My snake protects me with pain,
Chokes the hopes outta me.
I'm turning from blue to purple,
But let me drown in my own sea.
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 10:41 AM UTC
Byron and I play
The All Topics Open.
Eighteen holes
Invariably draws nostalgic.
Byron mentioned he went to the WWF in Detroit.
I sliced into a childhood memory
Of midgets at Cobo Hall:
Cobo Hall, Saturday Night. Be there!
Byron started pitching old wrestlers and holds:
Leaping Larry Shane, great with the Anaconda Vice;
Killer Kowalski vs. Bobo Brazil, pinned by the Crucifix and Abdominal Stretch;
**** the Bruiser* tagging with The Sheik
To defeat Gorgeous George and Crybaby McCarthy.
Byron went on in detail, with tabernacle authority:
“It was a Bear Hug that quickly swung in to a Quarter,
then Half,
then Full Nelson;
Crybaby bounced off a knee,
Was driven to the mat and pinned
By a Front Sleeper.”
(Jimmy's newborn picture faded in,
and the pose he naturally struck
baby arms
cocked like a sideshow muscle man
Daddy quipped: **** the Bruiser*.
I was Leaping Larry Shane.
Daddy quipped: Larry the Stooge.
I didn't see that move)
Byron was intense. I could hear, but
I was zoning.
Crybaby and Front Sleeper dazed me.
How time Venns.
I was pinned today.
I recognized the feeling.
Tagged, then pinned by
The inescapable
Baby Nelson.
You know the hold.
On your back.
Baby on chest, face down.
Pinned.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
.
There were certain tea--chers--
that came crashing through my mind
like a herd of Buffalo,
New Yorkers.
Peeling, pointing porkers.
Try--ing to remind me--
the atmospheric city,
is not the alphabet, Oh!
Should I move out of Ohi--o?
(Oh me, oh me. Oh, my--O!)
I --
was dissolving,
certain rainy days sort of
had that sad effect on me.
And-- I-- was suspended--
high above a swaying bridge,
holding back the water.
Like old comic books and thunderstorms
crashing down like gravity...
And--
I smelled the smell of moth *****
made me think of someones' grandma.
The empty corners of their closets.
The empty corners of their closets.
And still...
I dream of fly--ing--
high above the alligators
wrestling in an open pit.
While...
an anaconda
drops in uninvited and
squeezes both of them, Oh!
I am not complaining,
just because it's raining.
There were certain tea--chers--
that came crashing through my mind
like a herd of Buffalo,
New Yorkers.
Peeling, pointing porkers.
Try--ing to remind me--
the atmospheric city,
is not the alphabet, Oh!
Should I move out of Ohi--o?
(Oh me, oh me. Oh, my--O!)
I --
was dissolving,
certain rainy days sort of
had that sad effect on me.
And-- I-- was suspended--
high above a swaying bridge,
holding back the water.
And...
.
Mar 28, 2010
Mar 28, 2010 at 5:42 AM UTC
I thought you cared for me
Because, your words had always conveyed that to me
I was supposed to be your best friend
However, our relationship, you decided to end
You said you were my sister
But you left me feeling rather bitter
Because you cared only about yourself
And left me hating myself
For something as minor as a Facebook comment
Never did you have any good intent!
I thought you cared for me
But it was never "we"
It was all "you"
Our friendship had no value
Because you were obsessed about yourself
You and your anaconda sized ego
Which you could never let go
You and your precious Mumbai Indians
Were the only **** sapiens
Who truly mattered to you
Apart from your "bestest friend"
You, would he blindly defend
As though you were a Nobel Prize winner
While you were actually a sore loser
With an extremely domineering personality
Masked by a deceptively sweet tongue
I thought you cared for me
But you never let me be
Because, all that mattered, was your precious image
Often, would you take umbrage
Over relatively insignificant matters
Such as me not marking you present
When you were LITERALLY absent
No wonder, did you have your haters
Because, YOU came before everyone else
Never did you take a pause
And empathise with anyone
In fact, YOU were everyone!!
I thought you cared for me
But you never truly cared for anyone
You thought you were a special someone
Who deserved all the attention in the world
On the other hand, often did you fold
At the slightest hint of pressure
Though you were so sure
That you were always right
Oh boy, never were you a pretty sight!!
I thought you cared for me
But you never took the trouble to understand me
You called me your best friend
But I was nothing more than a means to an end
Because you were a narcissist
And as a friend, one of the worst
Seriously, accepting your offer of friendship
Was nothing short of a mishap!!
Anyway, you will get what's coming to you
Your friends will eventually leave you
And then it will be just YOU
Left to fend for yourself
As you deserve to be
Because you are so obsessed with yourself
However, the world is for all
It's time you learned that
Once and for all!!
Mar 3, 2024
Mar 3, 2024 at 11:30 AM UTC
if you won't learn a second tongue, that's foreign to you, like, let's say french, or spanish... don't expect me to "integrate" into your society, and leave my mothertongue in a ditch, in the gutter, in a forgetfullness... i'm keeping mine, and you'll have to cut my tongue off, to make me forget it!
why? what's the main reason? the r! the R!
the trill!
well... i have another name for the so-called trill...
great oral ***
for one...
but in my gob... that letter equates to
a rattlesnake... the english took the ketamine-numbing
approach to the R... the french? they, they...
they just ******* hark it out... ha ha... as if they were clearing
their throats from too many cigarettes the previous day...
my R is a rattlesnake...
so, once more... oh, i learn your language, i'll even
beat you at it... given my current expression...
but forget my mothertongue, and not have the odd sing-along to a song
in my native (tongue)? forget it...
you numbed the R... you're almost swallowing your tongue
when expressing it...
where's your serpent regarding
the letter? oh... an anaconda... quasi-bear-like hibernation
after eating some animal in one gulp...
where is the snake's **** by the way?
do they have one?
i'd love to see a snake take a ****
but that's like: a month's, if not half a year's worth of "indigestion".
n'ah... i'll integrate, for sure, i'll use the tongue,
but not using the native? forget it!
you learn a second tongue! we have to meet halfway, after all.
i feel sorry for R in the hands of the french, or the english...
the former are harking it... the latter are numbing it...
me? thankfully using it like a rattlesnake.
May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
Galloping through the apparently calm meadows,
My springbok hoofs were touching the grass softly.
How I rejoice hopping in the air above the cool moisty grass,
Hopping feels so ecstatic after a cool shower on the rainy season.
Maybe it's in the rain now that I feel so addicted to, but then I stop,
And probably it's the Anaconda's coil that siphons up on me now.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 1:07 AM UTC
The walls lay in ash.
Soldiers stood brash.
A southern army torn apart
By a Yankee driven heart.
A national wake.
Honor burned at the stake.
Men of like birth,
Forced back to Fort Worth.
Unity broken.
Idiocy outspoken
Maintained holdings in an old life.
Grasping onto a bigoted knife.
Division formed over pride,
Childish remarks seeming snide.
Violence comes with few delays
Sparks up through debate about gays.
No one ever likes to lose.
That doesn’t mean one must corrupt the news.
Accept the nature of a simple mistake.
And end this 149-year wake.
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 3:53 PM UTC
I hate you, and yet,
This is the most beautiful
Tragedy I’ve ever experienced.
Simple-minded wonder
Of how your hands could lace
With mine ever so perfectly.
Nothing makes this okay
I’m not okay. This isn’t okay.
The electricity when our hands touch
No, this is not happening.
I hate you.
I have for years.
Why would it change now?
Is it because of the way
You held my face as I was falling
After taking the blow, you caressed me
Why do I forgive you so easily?
I love you.
No, but I can’t.
You’re stupid.
I hate you.
And I’ve gotten to know you
To know the blue of your irises
That turn into the dark emerald
When you strike
Like a snake
But you’re my snake.
I’ll forgive you for everything
Because I can’t resist
The way you wrap yourself around me
And **** the life out of my bones.
My very own personal Anaconda.
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 9:37 PM UTC
Falling out of distracting thoughts
he reacquainted with his glare in the mirror;
he'd been somewhere else, undoubtedly lost
in a moment of her.
She too was standing in front of a mirror,
putting her face on, yet the occasion was stained
with an uncharacteristic frown, as if sadness
had found her somehow.
After many anxious intakes of breath,
he reached for the door-keys lain by the trinket box
next to their photograph. He cradled
the apartment keys in his palms for a brief moment,
then went on his way.
She stared at their joyful pictures on her wall,
a shrine with each an expression of love.
She clutched his name on the key fob and left also.
That evening in the restaurant,
her eyes glued to his as intensely as her hands
pursing through the gaps in his fingers;
two sizes too big.
He reciprocated warm heartfelt smiles,
trying to keep it together for both of them.
Circling his thumb gently on pressed fingers.
Her accented cadence a perfume for the ears
and her broken English endearing;
this would all haunt him,
these details tearing at the pit of his stomach
as he languished in the reality
that he has no choice. He must return home.
Over the balcony
wrapped in her anaconda-like arms,
he witnessed her cheeks
tear-staining in the moonlight,
her whimpers battling the lulling tides and cricket chorus.
She crumpled as a strewn napkin against his frame,
before exchanging a kiss;
soft and lovingly endured. The very kiss that wishes
not to end but to stay this way forever.
How melancholy it was in the sea breeze,
to walk among their favourite spot on the beach;
where many an anecdote was told,
many a sweet little nothing shared
and many a glance embraced.
Right now with the hush of salt water
lapping the shore;
their 'Last chance to see' had been studied.
In that instant, both knew
that it couldn't be possible to have
one another again.
They stood for a long while by the waters edge.
Both just as broken,
before becoming ghosts of the scene
and ghosts to each other.
May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 6:54 PM UTC
~ menu fixe for Chez Revanche
Anxious Anaconda Antipasto.
Mega Shark Soup.
Grinning Crocodile Fillets.
Prodigious Python Pie.
All served up like revenge,
appropriately cold.
Presentation is everything.
Tuck in, before they do.
_ mce
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 9:43 PM UTC
i love the anaconda a great big snake his he
in the rivers of the amazon swimming wild and free
he looks for his food till he finds his prey
then constricts his body to take there breath away
coiling round and round with his pressure on
squeezing really tightly till there breath has gone
then when he has eaten he crawls in to the grass
falling fast asleep for his food to pass
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 11:35 AM UTC
Whether your dancing to macherina or the anaconda you should stay true to you
Just because the popular girl side-steps right doesn't mean it's wrong to side-step left
Move your feet to your own beat
People will always Judge you but don't give into defeat
Don't stand glued to the floor like a statue
Why should they bring your attitude down? Never let them see you frown
dance as you please
Ignore the people who try to tease
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
tonight was the last time
i'd walk into my yard
without shoes on
and not lose my toes
to the frost that breathes on the back
of our necks
even though the shine from the sun
still freckles our faces
i stood there and held steady
as bailey ran figure eights around me
weaving in and out of the rhododendrons
knowing just how long his leash would reach
before his collar snagged on his windpipe
i looked over the fence,
saw that your light was on,
but i knew you were gone
being pumped full of formaldehyde
and by now they had cut you open
and taken out my favorite part of you
i thought of the time when i was just four
and you rolled over on that ride on mower
wearing that old hat you'd gotten
back when they called you the anaconda
your skin was like chocolate and i thought to myself,
now that man looks delicious
my daddy handed me to you over the fence
and i sat on your lap, we mowed your two acres together
you singing stevie wonder, me singing the beatles
back and forth we went until every last blade was clipped
i rolled down the sledding hill and you smoked your cigar
and laughed when i got up and couldn't figure out
if i was looking up at the sky or down at the earth
and when your big hands
held my tiny shoulders
the world stopped spinning
i looked down and there was
the tiny gold locket that i still have today
my momma called me for dinner
and you picked me up,
put me on my side of the fence
and winked at me like you always did
but that day was different, that day you said,
erin ann, you're the daughter i never had
i know that the blood
that runs from my heart to my brain
to my finger tips as they write this
is not the blood that no longer
races through your veins,
but lord knows,
that won't make
watching them throw the dirt
on top of you
any easier
Nov 4, 2011
Nov 4, 2011 at 2:51 AM UTC
Time to get untop
Been drug down
and stepped on
im untop now
and your being smashed on
Use to say my **** was alright
Now you callin me every night
I get my **** hard
cause you bout to break my bed board
your *** so fat it looks like a fat kids face stuffed with cake
and **** can you make dat *** shake
its almost terrifying like that anaconda typa snake
so yeah im smokin and ashin on your back and them ****** jigglin
So they ain't fake
for gods sake
For gods sake for gods sake
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 6:11 PM UTC
Era el crepúsculo de la iguana.
Desde la arcoirisada crestería
su lengua como un dardo
se hundía en la verdura,
el hormiguero monacal pisaba
con melodioso pie la selva,
el guanaco fino como el oxígeno
en las anchas alturas pardas
iba calzando botas de oro,
mientras la llama abría cándidos
ojos en la delicadeza
del mundo lleno de rocío.
Los monos trenzaban un hilo
interminablemente erótico
en las riberas de la aurora,
derribando muros de polen
y espantando el vuelo violeta
de las mariposas de Muzo.
Era la noche de los caimanes,
la noche pura y pululante
de hocicos saliendo del légamo,
y de las ciénagas soñolientas
un ruido opaco de armaduras
volvía al origen terrestre.
El jaguar tocaba las hojas
con su ausencia fosforescente,
el puma corre en el ramaje
como el fuego devorador
mientras arden en él los ojos
alcohólicos de la selva.
Los tejones rascan los pies
del río, husmean el nido
cuya delicia palpitante
atacarán con dientes rojos.
Y en el fondo del agua magna,
como el círculo de la tierra,
está la gigante anaconda
cubierta de barros rituales,
devoradora y religiosa.
1.1k
it hurt when you tried to leave my life,
but make me stay in yours.
it hurt, when you looked at me,
but bit back the words that were suffocating you,
constricting your throat,
dying to rise to the surface
like an anaconda,
slowly but surely tightening its grip on it’s prey, squeezing the life out a being,
silencing your deepest convictions.
i watched in silence, hoping, praying, for the satisfaction of your words, strung simply by the syllables and sounds of this human constructed language.
but, what hurt even more, was knowing what you had to say,
feeling it,
but STILL,
remaining in silence.
it hurt when i couldn’t be the one to help you, or even more, help you help yourself.
it hurt when your hurt,
hurt me.
when it reflected MY own pain,
when it wounded MY own ego, shattering it once again,
from all the time and effort invested in you.
but this was a different type of hurt.
because you didn’t hurt me. not actually.
I hurt myself.
I hurt myself when i unknowingly stripped my essence of it’s beauty and elegance,
by allowing, yet again,
another fail at “love” to define my being.
I hurt myself when i gave away my power to yet again,
another trial, which ultimately,
does not matter.
so i thank you.
i don’t thank you directly,
but i thank the you from which your actions derive.
i thank the experience, and the feelings in which i felt,
even if they were only negative.
i’ll always be thankful,
because without you,
i wouldn’t have realized that,
i am love.
my sole existence, my very being,
is love.
and at the core, so are you.
because we are one.
and if i am love,
so are you,
and it’s just a matter of time before you realize it too.
-v.la
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 9:50 PM UTC
The python crawling
and winding through the land,
decimating,annihilating
and choking lives
out of our youths,
there's fear in the land,
stench smell of blood
from the calamity spreads
through the land.
We must stand firm,
hold the line,resist them
and vehemently oppose them.
This monstrous tragedy
is dreadfully depressing.
weeping of our mothers
whose sons are taken
heard from afar.
There's no war but
there's war in the land.
Who is next to be taken.
This python dangerously
dancing it's way
among the people.
The young men bruised
and wounded by its venom.
Dance of this python scares
the little ones in the hinterland.
They attempt to break,
demonise, belittle,
vilify and wipe us out
through intimidation,
disinformation, mass ******
and ethnic cleansing.
Can the elders magically
unleash the anaconda
to swallow up their python
just like Moses did to
his adversaries.
©2017. Emeka Mokeme.All rights reserved.
Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 6:24 PM UTC
being insulted by someone
of a trans-
status quo
classification
will never be enough
to mind, had i the pairing
to a higher tier of socialite endeavour -
to be debased with a fragrance of
a misuse of language
on a level of comprehension will
always place me steadied with placards
of 'hello, my name is Samauel'
well hello Samuel..
boiled herrings pan-fried readied for
a star wars sequel akin to rocky 7,
boxing-catchup K.O. no.31 -
an here the champ gives way to a chimpanzees'
worth of gurgled laughter -
readied speed at a Bronson's uppercut -
and we're too the readied ones
annex to the molars that might be considered
the chewing apparatus should
we not have juiced with bites as if a load's
worth of hammering was taken place:
chewing as if hammering, imagine
the cranium gush extract - it would be
like porridge if reverse due to diarrhoea!
flaky shit-bits and anaconda's suntan to measure up to;
well, there was the leather chair to mind
in terms of approving leisure activity as coercing
a carefree fortitude of futuristic investment -
mind you the loss of the Celtic vocabulary,
I.R.A. and the instigation of Anglo-Saxon
vocabulary to suppress the populace
of renegade Catholics or the twin Belfast known
as Glasgow - indeed Edinburgh remained
as much conservative as St. Andrew's would allow,
an extension of England, even with parliament
it was a Basildon of northern Essex...
scots among the multitude of accents usurped from
pole-dancing with kilts! Tartan su doku!
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 8:46 PM UTC
She kissed like barbed wire,
bruised his kidneys
with her vise grip thighs,
clenched his ****
like an anaconda,
climaxed like a volcano
spewing screams,
moaning like a torture victim;
always wanted more, deeper,
faster, harder, now.
She was the wanton
wild, wet dream
every guy longs to meet,
ravaging his bed,
bruising his body,
******* him dry
and he couldn't run away
fast or far or soon enough.
~mce
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 10:01 AM UTC
Shes next
the one
The Bait dangled in my face
Followed her from Beetle's to Market St.
She stopped at the state liquor agent
Her reflection in the bottles
Strange and obtuse
I trail in her shadow
As she hits the main drag
She's taking potshots from the brown bag
Pitch black dress and a red purse
Looks like she just woke up
In the back of a hearse
Cunning
Taking to the street backs
Like a cat to the fence
Through the ghetto directing traffic with her hips
Her pheromone trail has me licking my lips
In the gaslamps I can make the outlines
Of her unfinished tattoos
The naked torso
the bicep
Weeping willow
I gave her a million chances
But she never answered the phone
Galvanized by a single conversation
Eyes
An itch on the frontal lobe
A fire in my chest her screams act like billows
Steel grip on the nape of porcelain
Anaconda uncoiling from the ****
Naked
I stand above her
Lying all blue lipped against white sheets
Gently
I pose and photograph her
This one's a keeper
They say I hate women
Nothing could be further from the truth
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 9:25 AM UTC
I thought you were beautiful,
With eyes that melt me, forest greens and browns,
My thoughts like clouds, don't know where they go, but they go,
And dissapear into magestic sunsets, the colors of blush,
If a mirror saw it's reflection, would it be embarressed,
I've danced with the thought of being here or not,
And she doesn't have the fanciest footwork, this thought,
Or hear the music very well, but she leads,
She leads me so much more than I lead her,
I thought you were beautiful,
It was leaves like those green leaves,
From green to yellow, and down to scarlet red,
My heart forgets to think, as a pianist forgets their place,
And it's melody slows, as your breath breaks the edges,
A sonata, with written letters to oppose it,
I love to travel, from feet to eyes and ears,
Adore, the hills and valleys,
The lips of local songs,
A neck of paradise, wrapped up in anaconda whispers there to stay,
If your smile was a lie, I'd worship treason,
And live for lies,
If goodbyes were hellos, I'd always want you gone,
And if staying means cold and winter winds,
I'll fall, and I'll autumn and I'll never spring to summers heart.
Oct 9, 2011
Oct 9, 2011 at 3:56 AM UTC