Language Or the Kiss
LANGUAGE OR THE KISS
But my bee, with stinger intact,
slapped me with his forked tongue abuse.
My flesh still warm, aching and sacked.
I strike matches over red lips.
Stupidly I beg sweet-sour sips.
I wear dueling masks, with two views.
Language or the kiss, must I choose...
Each hot, burnished with pulsing lips.
My baby’s breath, I dread to lose.
Sticky honey-buzz without sound.
I’m cosseted in poems drowned -
flaming elixir of his craved sips.
5/5/2018
Laura Loo’s Rhyme Time 3
Rhyme dictionary assures me that
abuse and views rhyme.
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment