Thursday, November 20, 2008

I was generally amourous towards my fellow man, wanting very much to kiss and cuddle the populus, but wishing it would make the first move, showing me first that yes, it wanted me.

The confidence to extend one's lips to the world comes from repeated occasions of success and lapses in these makes for tentative lip chewing and ingestion of one's own skin.

Would maybe that a tawdry frolick would do but then if it were only sensation I was after I would suck/kiss my own arm, talk to myself, keep a journal...

2 comments:

1 said...

O Lover in her year.

Stan Apps said...

Cool poem.

Arm-chewing = tastes good, less filling.

Lip-chewing, on the other hand = bad habit. Lip-skin tastes kinda leathery, like shoes. Or is it only mine that tastes that way? hmmm