and she kept dreaming of these nothings, somethings, foreasmuches - falling down a spiral of a merciless decay.

-- evanesce with me, and kiss me 'til my lips are bruised
and bleeding with the coarse reflection
of the sandpaper of days and dreams
and time.

fuel this addiction, make one more correction
a connection, resurrection,
perfect diction
(is done with the tip of the tongue and the teeth)

licorice taste on my tongue,
rivulets of a sin entrancing
my skin and your tongue
as you lick them away.

away.

blue light and red shadow -
multicoloured sex and
glow-in-the-dark pillowtalk
with glowsticks and
rough hands
and violence
and
you.

10/28/2003

Author's Note: something i just wanted out, really.

Posted on 10/30/2003
Copyright © 2024 Erin Werle