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![Image for the poem Tongue Of Your Sushi](/images/uploads/poemimages/478275.jpg?1680197542)
Tongue Of Your Sushi
No beath but the pulse is there,
giving me tongue of your sushi
from my sweet Calamari,
and a little green bottle of sake
listing, to the other side stare,
of twilight's yoga slow dance,
yet holding on to the buoy
with your head on my chest
touched by the razor's edge
a guillotine to your tomorrow
giving me tongue of your sushi
hanging on by the strings
in a bees house of mead tea,
saving no marrow for sympathy
as the mahjong screams,
echoing over Fujiyama
giving me tongue of your sushi
from my sweet Calamari,
and a little green bottle of sake
listing, to the other side stare,
of twilight's yoga slow dance,
yet holding on to the buoy
with your head on my chest
touched by the razor's edge
a guillotine to your tomorrow
giving me tongue of your sushi
hanging on by the strings
in a bees house of mead tea,
saving no marrow for sympathy
as the mahjong screams,
echoing over Fujiyama
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