Addiction

Addicted to your hips and taking sips as if I were a whine-o Oh why oh why I cry for an explanation… as to why I crave your sweet precipitation…. The AA meetings between my tongue and your lips don’t induce sobriety… and my remission remains a reminiscent Rembrandt image in my mind… with brush strokes of water dripping and making me trip in… to… my body slips into a sexual impulse coma… never waking up from Saturday night late nights…. Tussling… rumbling roaring … continuing to smooth over my side of the bed… your body like Wednesday wasted…. And thirsty Thursday’s…. I’m attracted impacted… Lost in you…. Laid up with your body covering my inhibitions and exposing lust clear… you’re like the last piece of cake… sweet yet so easy to make a mess over…


I smother my face in you creamy filling…. And lick all that drops from you… I’m in a daze… your body moves on me like a new dance craze… my desire in a blaze for you… im addicted… And I was supposed to be writing a poem about being addicted to you… like I was open or on it or some shit … as I fall deeper in addiction I lose sight of sobriety… priority now trivial… your body makes me feel high in a gaze with you… fuck rehab… you’re a must have… a map of your body and my tongue marks x… mate… see you on me… see…. You and me… see…. We… see me in you…. Do you feel me in you… see… this feeling blends addiction with lust and grief of never expressing my emotions so my tongue traces tears stains and end up far in addiction…