Thick fruit skin I’ll have my teeth
Plunge into you.
I’ll give you my tongue for an hour
If only you’d let me clutch you.
I’m wicked thing I promise,
But, I won’t remember you, so,
It’s a fair deal. What isn’t remembered
What isn’t recorded
Isn’t that how we all live now?
Dressing and undressing before cameras?
But, I’ll give you
A curtain to smother all the expectation
And revulsion, a fine mask
To lock in the impulsion and
The door closed and lead you to a chamber
Without the highway,
With only trees.
With only sheets that are
Hot to the touch and if you are willing,
I’ll take you kindly, strip away
All your dreams.