the kiss avenue

 

derrida.

remember the sleazy sassy kiss by the window mall last saturday afternoon? felt perky. and cheery. and fluttery. and feeble. and windowed. and so so sexual. that moisture on your elegance, your double lips and drummer goods. the touch of saliva flare. my tongue. your tongue. speaking gibberish in sonnets. in song and rhythm. a violent outburst of your falsetto strings. your squirm. your almond pear eyes. and your dizzying melody of jungle tunes. the wild preachers of the parish caves. and your hands. so firm and confident. butter soft. the odor of honey margarine oozing from your sweat spectacle. a crystallinity to your brow play and choral jingle. the bells of your pivoting dailies. they strike in chord. accord. like blueberry blossoms and cherry flowers. a photographic smile that drives me wild. folding refolding stroking in hormones. layer on layer. biting the hair frame of a tender anatomy. the water songs and moon enclaves. grouching and slouching in the girth of saccharin blue pupils. dilate and contract in the clutch of a serpentine slenderness. you blow off the candles on the bronze candle stands. and lick the scales off the molten wax puppets, creaming in layers of affinity and incongruity. and back to the kiss. in my face and through my eyes. my paraffin front melts in the abyss of a wild romantic pallor. so wild and ferocious. your aggression, you solder on the hinge of your bones. unseen by day, exposed by dusk. i love this plenitude of varnish on the stave-art atheist relic of your ossified identity. beyond mold, derrida. beyond mold. what did i say by the river? beware of water. in the fluid and atoms of thirst frenzy orgasm. what quenches. and pleases. and teases. and wets. can kill the bob of your transient living. what frills. and evokes and darts and swings. this water bed of water cress and lotus leaves. crenulate and pacific. i dwell on your tongue. before it rains and sieves a cacophony of pleasure-pain continuum. rapidly mystifying. and rising and humming. and pacing in cycles of androgen steroids. an acquiescence of the bawdy flavor of adrenaline topography. derrida. we kissed. and screamed. and cremated the tempest of swirl novels and pepper. and rented a pledge of foe pivots in flesh. and pander to the servitude of unlearned instincts. this need. this desire. this deed. derrida, you made me burst.