Her Mudsoaked Sneakers And Me

Her Mud-Soaked Sneakers And Me.

I guess I talk in psycho-syllabic
Hieroglyphs of stature that press my meaning
Between consonants popped and vowels sounded
So I can cover Insanities smooth back
caress her spine with a winsome touch
And kiss her collarbone as we stand, embraced.
Her mud-soaked sneakers and me

We tempt moody gold from the alchemists of letters
And spin patterned alphabet like candyfloss
Then pepper the page with a voice that sighs
Of Childhoods forgotten and see saw metaphors,
Colliding landscapes and words unspoken.
Alliteration in masquerade.

Sewing sequins to every syllable spoken
And slipping to drunken lullabies
When thoughts collide over a joint or two
And a shared glazed look says more that evening
Than a roomful of charged spirits
Ready to sink to the bottom of a bottle or two