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Rated: GC · Poetry · Erotica · #621565
the pleasure and pain and panic EGO-mind screw
Feel
Heels
High
Shoes
Click
Climb
Tap
Shine
Smack dance
Tap
Trance
Clickety-klak
you see
I am not poised
by Marilyn’s rack
I got other things…
You
look
at.

Distracted
Got that?

Curved appeal
Lower like
You want to ride
My other side
Klack those black heels
Can smack and lick
The floors
I got wheels
Rhythm divine
Intention is mine
Confession time
My life, my lie
I exact, I shine
The moon becomes rivers
- Multiplied
With each sliver
White ball divides
Hey there little soldier, Out of line-
White hat
Move him back
Slacker your track
Is now my
Smack-smack, lick
Curling my bill
Tighter to suck
The soldiers
“my, my…
Have we here a storm to collide?”
This plate, this, like Kansas,
A great season to speed
Take this twister
Up goes
The manifestos
Nothing gets left behind
And turn this 3-D reflection,
long and wide
So if I hold it on its side,
Nothing slides,
If storms collide
“I the great wind and sky…
Have all your souls inside.”
© Copyright 2003 Jaimesen Chayse (jmsn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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