maybe i'll feel the warm fat kiss of a thick protruding tongue,
but no one is coming up the stairs for me
maybe i'll be shoved and scraped and mindwatched and
never know this body
that drapes over me and collapses into yours.
the people in the sea; they're dying, they're dying
and that is why no one is coming up the stairs for me
because you're out rescuing them,
brushing your opened palms against
their skin, their bony pale skin, the wet pale skin
that drapes over them as they melt
and you follow them down,
floating in rhythm to their finely tuned song
and i know not a soul
is coming up the stairs for me.
is somebody in love? and feeling neglected?
ReplyDeleteI get a feeling out of the few posts made now.
Take care Rose :)
I like your blog. I will be coming back.
ReplyDeletethanks for both your comments! as for mr. blasphemous, that information will not be disclosed ;]
ReplyDelete:O :) your wish... I can guess! :P
ReplyDelete