06 December 2010

sugar

so the awake in me is from cane fields
or sand hill birds
as in flying back to nebraska

do you dance on my bed
even in the winter, or more then.
against my chest w/
long pink legs

the lips you bite
sewn to the nibble, a bit
for you to wear
when confronting the Hells Angels

telling me stories of them,
w/ their hammers.