747 Wasps

Notesapp Poem4

I got caught where all walls sweat sugar
and every surface feels fresh to my face
Whatever muddy curse oozes through me
is gluing my wrists to a moldy bloom

Maybe it is only your lust for hard petals
that keeps them hovering at my side —
They swarm in my horny thoughts
sharp noises are mocking me with a hook

Strangers in the Night
A fragile lie served on an iron horse
taunted by 747 wasps in the sky

They sting at my worn-out whore stem
I can feel little tongues licking at stale feet
My body has mistaken itself for something worthwhile
The sensitivity lets the last of my defences creep

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