Fruit punch lips; touch my throat with your fingertips.
Drink me in.
Do you find me threatening?
Threading myself through dim lit dungeons
Chaining all your inhibitions to the stone masonry.
I’m a dirty nursery rhyme,
A well place line
In a consecrated web of architectural lies.
Arachnid feelers reach,
Feed on lust,
Draining the bars of their male compatriots.
Just a swill of smoky nectar
Let them suckle and retreat
Into the asphalt they will dissolve and become our street.
On the sweaty southern nights we’ll meet,
And lick amaretto from my teeth.
I am a chaser to the poison that you drink.
Don’t I swallow oh so sweet?