this metal opera
of ours
shivers
like a good taste
on my face
and
screams in my
ears
(which happen to be
my all time
favorite
body part)
and so
as you remove your
blouse
and my birthday
has arrived
I take you in
like the music of
a thousand planets
singing simply
for me
and you
with your horned helmet
and robotic brassiere
does something
smooth to me
and I can sing your praises
all fucking night
and now
with glasses
the color of winter flowers
sitting on top of my forehead
I squint insanely
at your nude figure
in the blue walls
of our lovemaking sessions
and flip it over once
to the other side
and sing for me
a new song
and you
captivated by my
mellifluous croaking
(a honey frog)
you call me the style of the year…
you whisper my
hidden nickname
as I penetrate the
walls of your tender mouth
with my crazy soft tongue
singing
as always
singing
to you
to me
to us
and the night
is young
and the fat lady
she ain’t showing up
(my ears
wouldn’t pay her any mind anyhow
that’s why I love them to pieces)
so dear heart
flip it over twice
and we’ll have another run
into the wild flesh
that burns hot
with scented lust
as the tea seeps
inside of mugs
underneath
the New York moonlight
that pours into our song
that only the two of us
know the lyrics to
so one more
amazon kiss…
a bravo jungle with flowers
hitting the ceiling fans
before showering us
with sliced pedals
and laughing
we continue on
and on
like a needle stuck so sweetly
into the groove
of the perfect record
which plays at every speed
with grace and gusto
so say a prayer for that wax
in our collective souls
and don’t let the tune
fade out
to crisp December air
keep it warm
keep it hot
keep it alive
and most of all
keep it
coming
dear,
keep it coming
No comments:
Post a Comment