bump

devilment
unshevelled meant
to push the prey away,
sweetened talk,
of fallin,  baulked; at just what they may say
fanny me around your cloud,
and raise your eyebrows true,
and pit your wit amongst the god,
and panik coz it's true,
but fail that
and arms droop true
the thing we both forgot,
that rise it comes from tempreture,
but my sweat
one drip
full stop