Palate

Palate

In the immensity of the night I point Moon

and end up on the roof of your lips

me always feels bare

one kiss drive you wild

me runs as if on the tracks

I am the wind that cuts your wings

gift it to you with expensive corsets

we escape the confines from our homes

you almost escapes by a whisker

his attempt fails through a wire

I treat you as a lady and harlot

amordaço and kiss your lips to not hear a peep out

smudge her lipstick and her pale skin penalty

I am your master and you my slave girl

about my body feels saving

with my domain never gets annoyed.

Arthur Nett

23/02/2011