limerence

Oh! you lift up mongrel lady
Thin lipped  viscous, swine up tongue
Pecking... I am tired of your pious talks, a hybrid nominal zone of ambiguity
Quietly, strangely, to truffle and to drink
The room decor, eschewed joy
An immoral fill, pruned up so disposed, so altered
Now, I am down to last my drop of booze
Swigged to a voice, dragged to my own synaesthetic
I am here
I am there
I hear you, rattling like a ragbag...
Is that word or you chomping the fried cat`s ear, that rings my heart
Each day, I am sick of not scuffing you
Let me do it tonight... love
My finger nails, filled with black dirt, slowly picking, as you ooze the puss
Brimming, as the dim tube light falls
A delicacy, imbued.
I am feeling happily morbid, as you now harvest the fetid womb for me to toil
Licking and smelling the vaporized goo
You lick my rusty tool, like as a gastronomic experience
I now trip, drip
In your wrist, like a corsage
Vivid ,yet so colorless like a pale moon
So pure, So true,
Only to be with you.......


Roop