gold plated flooring
glitching personalities
which fit the ideals of every eye
brown, green and blue
say hi to the passing moon
but motives on my mind
from here on.
he’s lapping it up
water in a dog bowl
i’m dancing on his tongue
and sleeping on his tastebuds
flooding his throat with the loose cotton
from my jeans
he’d die for me
one side of me
möbius strip
stripping his pharynx
he doesn’t know the rest,
they’re not meant for him -
he’s too busy trying to breathe
with me spinning my fabrics in his system
his möbius strip,
stripping his larynx
now whenever he speaks
threads of me fall from his cupid’s bow
and form into a person he used to know
and the only sound from his open mouth
bites like the gold he couldn’t chew
and the only colour within his vision
is the truest form, brown green and blue.
and the only word he can tailor to make is made of three letters
y
o
u