Puddles

Where’s your sense?
It’s got all my words
and fucked off,
no doubt.

Like drumbeats coming
through the walls
to kill me
and my time.

You want a drink-off?
I need to feel like a winner.

“Don’t worry I’ll take
the bottles out,
just give me a second
there's something called
‘composure’
in here somewhere.”

It finds me first,
caresses my face
and kisses each of my eyelids.
I grow hard waiting
for it
to kneel in front of me.

It will force me to the bed
and sit on me so
that I can watch its ass
close up as it takes me.

‘Why is the tap allowed to drip
when I have no water?’

Why are you looking at me
again.
Seeing lies instead
of truth…
Of course,
too much T.V.
Damn this,
these words…
Bend down and let me
see
who you really are

The shower head beckons me.
The tortoise crawls slowly…
gets nowhere, actually.
Keep it fast, hard.
We’re here to make you sweat.

Dance for me
words.