Morning to Night

Blitz whirring, bliss occuring
Literal purring
Oral convergence
Littoral current

Ocean stream follows the coast
Like closing in on dreams of hollow ghosts
I love the chase scenes the most

So I tempt unwell rounds when I rail
Fly hot and cold tension in spellbound tales
Try not to over-mention the hellhound on my trail

Shaking off the tense
Waking tends to call
For baking hence I solve
Aching rotten like a forgotten frog prince
Shaking off the me that's bent
Staking sick dissent
Forsaking tricknollegy spent
Always makes slick sense
Baiting to the end...

Quaking above, naked parts, shameless proof
On the spot, stating daily
Facing my amends

Like the Rolling Stones lent:

“Making love and breaking hearts: It is a game for youth
But I'm not waiting on a lady
I'm just waiting on a friend.”