sensations, dulled.

His voice travels like
Technicolor scenes of time
Which like gravity
Will soon arrive:
Most Slyly
Lucid tongues
Which open and pry the
silk-screened boudoirs of
My curious left brain-
Secretly,
He notices,
Quickens, and maintains
still-
Towards youthful bewildered girls
With womanly shame
And childish will-
A maimed martyr for all things noble
Undressed
Each breast
A supple
Supplement
To Order-
But I will not be blinded with words
And pretentious apples,
Such wisdom is borne
Though never from
guileless tongues
No fun,
could I show to those who die of satisfaction
Either at times past or
times passing
Illusions transgressing-
A perception at lost trust,
Soon bursts from volcanic
Juicy molten tongues.
Lipstick painted all over your
Portrait,
Sticky emblems stained
Resembling Diego Rivera’s
Reddened face
You beg
As I make a mural of your
Sun kissed cheeks
Which like a mango
I Taste
Or
Devour
Every minute/Every hour
It will Drip-
The sticky
Aftertaste of
Your World.