deepundergroundpoetry.com
21.
Hello there my darling,
My long lost son-of-a-bitch.
It's been a while - but I'm not sorry for being
Reserved.
It's like the table at the restaurant where you promised to
Ssserenade me.
Sssweetheart.
Sibilance.
It rolls from my tongue better than your lips.
Does that make me a snake?
Reciprocation is a venomous smile.
Because that makes you the charmer.
I bet that places a little smile on your face.
Double or nothing.
You should know,
It's both impossible to woo the Devil,
And a fatal mistake.
Forgive me for making that Chinese sand garden
Out of your chest.
I wasn't lost in the moment,
More misplaced,
More forget-me-not wit,
More mind games.
Money on-the-table intellect.
And when you're sprawled on the deck and
Asking the dealer for another card,
I'll be in your ear.
Under your table.
In your shoes.
Flicking my forked tongue across your neck.
"Ssstick."
Because your pocket wont be the only thing at the end of this game that is
Empty.
My long lost son-of-a-bitch.
It's been a while - but I'm not sorry for being
Reserved.
It's like the table at the restaurant where you promised to
Ssserenade me.
Sssweetheart.
Sibilance.
It rolls from my tongue better than your lips.
Does that make me a snake?
Reciprocation is a venomous smile.
Because that makes you the charmer.
I bet that places a little smile on your face.
Double or nothing.
You should know,
It's both impossible to woo the Devil,
And a fatal mistake.
Forgive me for making that Chinese sand garden
Out of your chest.
I wasn't lost in the moment,
More misplaced,
More forget-me-not wit,
More mind games.
Money on-the-table intellect.
And when you're sprawled on the deck and
Asking the dealer for another card,
I'll be in your ear.
Under your table.
In your shoes.
Flicking my forked tongue across your neck.
"Ssstick."
Because your pocket wont be the only thing at the end of this game that is
Empty.
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