Recoiled Kiss

Recoiled Kiss

Monday,
December 12, 2011

5:49 PM

I wonder what it
feels like to tie the knot,

around my neck right
before I really do it.

I ain’t that
curious.

Merely mildly
interested, like the steamy flavor

of cinnamon apple
oatmeal eaten off the

flesh above that,
(little-monster-Goldilocks)’s snatch.

Just a tingle of
implied insight, want to crave the better angle

where I can see up
god’s skirt, and snap tweet pics

of Thongless-Sunday
pubic hairs, a freely flowing

+1 up-vote and like
talk about a hash tag. #smoke#ish

I don’t need the
uniform can reign hell in civilian attire,

carrying the
standard issue hole punch

bout a switch-blade
in length and as wide as my fist,

the girls really
seem to inventory it.

Your life is
meaningless because:

your sour grapes
dried up into bitter reasons,

the context of your
day-to-day is overly vanilla,

you’re too smart to
live love laugh and languish

like a
contraliberbarbarian,

pillage on like an
art star,

forage through the
foliage like you’re looking for a fuck,

I see smears, and
stars of devils , and the blinking wonder,

I’m mesmerized
staring right at it until

my eyeballs are
nullified,

not seeing,

but understanding

like an electric
wire

I’m on, bright as a
the setting sun

starring me down on
my evening commute

eclipsed by my
raised hand.

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