My eyes swallowed you like an egg,
Then bulging with sweet satisfaction,
Slithered fat with the idea of you inside,
In a nonchalant state of pre-digestion.
They rolled back in my head; my lids shut heavy,
Not wanting to let any other thought through.
Drawbridge is clamped down tight, and singular,
For only the taste, the sight, of you.
The mere vision remembered delivers the goods
To my castle. Sash, pulled tight, absorbs the load.
Precious treasures of shining jewels and liquid sand
Burden the horse on the inside road.
Let me sit, swollen, Joy-Full-Sassy,
Just one hour! To meditate—
To relive the illusion of Delirious-Happy—
My gobby fat eyes to ruminate
On the twists and turns of your gleaming sparkles,
Of being such a flicker in your glory fire,
Of wanting only you, that very instant,
And being, momentarily, so utterly desired.
-jenn long
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