Tossing down drinks
that flow like waterfalls,
I glean only fragments
from the world around me.
Lights become tactile,
sounds become flavor.
Reason falls way to desire
and she is what I want.
Rich and dark,
like she should be.
She never says 'no;
you're never not good enough.'
In my mouth,
in my mind,
in my soul,
she comforts me.
My liquid love,
I would do anything for you,
but as Meatloaf so emphatically said,
I wont do that.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this... a lot! Great poem!