Teeth and Sleeves
The tears roll down in sheets of
Speeches through leeches it
Absorbs the teeth and sleeves of
Keen eyes that never stop watching
Nor stopping the pace of lace
Sexily wrapping around the body of
Kisses from blissing the end
Of time, more than the sour of
Lime.
I’m sick of the heat and the feat of
Taking you in was never the
The goal of my soul and yet
Here we are.
Lava sorts the layers and caters
To the teetering of the tatters, to
Nothing but who matters, it’s
Unbalanced with chalices of arsenic
And cyanide with a cry in aide we
Have to hold
The sickle of every nickel
And take
It apart
With each
Batch
Of mother
Fucking
Cookies
In tears that roll down sheets.
And leeches that break down speech.
