My open mouth
swirling words,
spitting abuse and
words of fucking love.
Slick hugs
feel
like an obedient canary
singing praises –
raises –
ups and downs
of these nightmares.
Your lips
with the taste of lazy nothing,
aroma of a bird
(with wet feathers)
on you,
under,
on top of
me
(inside you)
and visa versa –
I’m a plain romance
to you.
With a heart of whiskey,
body of ice,
and
kisses and touches
in the pissing rain.
You call me names you know,
But you don’t know
-ME-
Lolita is my nickname
and
… is my name.
Sweet kisses
and fluttering eyelashes
turn into fans of lust,
waves of love,
winds of attraction,
hurricanes, that
destroy fucking everything –
even red lipstick
and
flawless legs.
Come.
Touch me to death.
To the line of departure.
Before it’s too soon to regret.
Lets.
Now.
– Chatty Owl –
CHATTYOWL 