If It Sizzles, It Flames
It’s only abrasive if you yelp.
Aggression has no past ties with passion.
Passion strains noodled bones and
fishes flesh filled rods to your cervix.
Lips can only hang on to kisses that
leave them wet enough to not get thirsty.
Dripping hairs locks onto dripping stares.
Moist. You’re so moist.
When I hang you from there and
I watch your integrity
bleed down on me.