We beg to bring her gifts
A love potion had gotten her sick
Mixing the gargoyle spit...
With her batch of absinthe...
She begged me to stay...
With a voodoo of bribery...
I drink the abstract of slowness..
Too high to buy the phobia..
I watch her from the tower...
Of slow motion hour's
The low hanging fruit is sour...
Fermenting in her stash..
From the olive to the tree branch....
Her eye's activate a love trance...
Growing numbness for my outer shell...
From the fungus of a dead tongue...
She will kiss the sober one..
As she puts her spell on the rebound...
Soft rotten apples fall from the trees...
Worms that look like the snakes in retreat...
Eat the slimy lines across heart broken streats..
The speed of deep seeded relief..is not through me...
Inebriated statues of those shelled stunners...
Admiring the playground of love letter bumper cars...
The newness wears off thin inside a fake reality...
Slow moving races can pick up the best audiences..
With all these trails leading towards all these vices...
The countdown starts to become a competition..
And her mouth becomes a vacuum for decisions...
She could swallow the mushroom tip whole...
Like the saucy roots she hits with her boots..
Consuming the mucus in the airborne toast...
We are cheering to tears that made her choke up..
The oral sense of how the elixer might taste..
Warms up those thirsty blue eye's...
With a mouthful of a warm magic cider..
Swallowing the intoxicated feeding tube...
Her humming of drunk slippery overtones..
Licks the drippings clean...... down to the last drop...
The craft of extracting fast moving stumblings...
By way of fourplay offerings....offer up...The caveman strategy...
Un-respected and selfish..searching for his tentacles..
As he knocks around his hollow shell...
She vanishes past the horizon of slime coated hills....
Sinking past the setting sun of slow moving vibrations...
© Tanmoy
I
©lostlove00
L