From stale mouth, I mutter, “How honeyed!”
and lumber shamefully away
and sway-
still bobbing about,
gifting ardent kisses
to the walls
and bashing my skin
with a pussy occur tinge.
I don’t care who hears the crashing-
For this gaudy little stone of Earth
Holds me.
Only Me.
But when the hazed curtains
are snatched from my eyes,
I’ll half-promise, “Never again.”
Yet in fear
of that scathing suggestion
I’ll run back to my consoling toxin,
and,
with heart in throbbing frenzy
I’ll churn and cackle
and then sorely defeated,
I must whimper, “How honeyed…”
