Mama, bringing up my Lenovo
her throat like dry timbers
soaked in creosote
swallowing my alt delete
with ambidextrous tongue,
waiting for my eel to fill
with sins in blush tones.
as I bang her calliope,
whispering cyanosis
pigeonholed with paranoia
causing her blood to spill
on a pair of designer shoes
You’re so good at these creepy, brooding black holes in my inner consciousness, irresistibly craven and wanton, Adagio.
The dark can take many avenues leading to transfer tokens. I thank you for the comment.