Warm Water

Your daggered tongue licks the pussies

Of a thousand maidens

As you batter your lips and cake

on a flowery substance they fall for you.

They spread eagle and open mouths wide for you.

So busy and patient and eloquent isn’t he?

His soft and intricate tongue grazes

the cunts of an uncountable number all

All except one.

One who has been baiting

and waiting just to find an accurate signal.

As mixed as they are the answer is rather common,

As it always is,

Infectious,

Like a garden snake

As it slithers in the darkness of the grass

Blending in blade for blade.

Unknowingly the canine cuddles

against the ground sighing for a moment.

STRUCK and Stricken

Immediately brought back to birth.

 

Your tongue so delicately flawed with ambition and garbage.

I won’t bite mine as I wait for yours.

I won’t waste time for a taste that lures

A thousand maidens to their death

“Fatal and falling,”

Said the flirting bastard.

I’ll lick the chocolate off your lips

until you are no more like I did the last one before

and reestablish my dominance

Because in the end, every night I go to bed

and wake up with one person.

Me.

I don’t need to listen to those lilied words

that you’ve plastered on a tray

or how you act like you don’t look at me that way.

 

I can love me more than my own love can handle

and that’s what it looks like for now.

 

To mend and pretend like you

didn’t dip your tongue in cold water

to make me warmer before you warned me.

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