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Rated: E · Poetry · Young Adult · #1468660
Just something I came up with in the middle of a French summer night...
Why do I still RIBBON?

Elephant eggplant on the tip of my shoe lace,
Why do I still wonder at the sight of your face?

Tarantulas climbing on my cinnamon toast,
Why do I still marvel at those feats that you boast?

Milky oil drops staining the crumbs of my skin peal,
Why do I still sing my love as if it were real?

Skeletons dancing on the meadows of my lust,
I wish my absurd longings would turn to disgust. 
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