Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Talk That Talks

He said
What is this mouth you chose to wear today
These lips curve towards the grave
And those teeth were not as sharp before
Whose mouth are you wearing my dear?
And why 
Why can't your lips be consistent 
Consisting of either poison or ambrosia 
Or at the very least salt water for my voyage 
Gushing forth and frothing from between your teeth
Sailing down to the underworld on your current 
No need for some paltry guiding star 
When the raging roller coaster is in control
But I'd rather have your fluctuating venom
Or just your constant bile
Than to see you lock your lips 
And do nothing but smile 
So I guess I'm "whipped" and you are free
To walk where you want and have your way with me
And know there won't be any word of objection 
Because I guess I won't say this to you and we won't have this talk
As harmony kills honesty 
As security leads the dance with what is genuine 

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