Untitled
The tongue that slips, and
tumbles down
like pebbles dashed
upon a grave...
The tongue that takes a slow
nose-dive,
and puts it's foot before
Form Thought
inflated where
the mind knows naught...
A deviled tongue!...
This forked intent!...
A two-way mirror now
long spent...
Tongue takes backseat...
She loses rank...
Descends high staircase...
Walks off the plank
into a nameless
ether realm.
...Taking a powder!...
Sweeten fixed deal...
Find the loose menace
'twixt lips now sealed...
And when you've learned
just where we sit,
shake off false shackles...
Rinse out the spit.
©
8/9/20
Bunny Villaire
5
6
0