making bubbles underwater
with my mouth, playfully
with my nose underwater
and my eyes above the surface
I think I'm a submarine, full of weight
a fat whale, a stealth shark
a secret spy
floating in the water buoy
just staring
and breathing.
It's just like being on her thighs
gliding on the sheets
crawling at the speed of nibbles
left and right
hiding between her legs
breathing on the thin cotton undergarment
which, still covers her warmth, undeniably
and there I find myself
making bubbles underwater
drowning whatever sanity remained
My hands, buried deep in the sand
go discovering
or digging my grave
and my thoughts piled up high
like a club sandwich of lust
and desire and everything wrong
slowly and patiently
reason decays
time to turn the TV off
time for another drink
and I climb through the hole in the wall
crawling and sensing and defying all rules of gravity
separating and classifying everything I see
everything about you
and in record player motion
I fall to my death
in the boysenberry devotion
and the bitter lemon obsession I have for you
"Jolly roger in a pickup
Has a packet on the horses
He's a docker with a bucket -
Just the ticket in a thicket" - Brian Eno
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