Lip Lock

Berries ripe on the vine juice hypnotic elixir which intoxicates nocturnal creatures, I being what I am prefer the lick of Mercedes' lips instead; she is named by the man who exclaimed "mercy me," the man being me, merciless is she.

Strawberries seeded with protein all over the body yet difficult reproduction, not as fertile as his redness implies, only when enticed by tender twine does he give forth the tingle to fruit a field of leaves amongst decomposed chaos; if it was not for her there would be no baby blooms.

Eternal kissing is not permitted for the realm we dimension, in any portion, rather we sustain a memory of the act which heals the body of painful reminisce; at least that is how it should be not how it is for me.

"Her lips silence me....."

"Could be a weapon; keep you quiet."

"I shouldn't need to battle for her kisses."

"You would if you had to though."

"You damn right I would. I would fight a never ending bloody war for her lips!"

"I hope you mean that."

"Who is it that I got to fight?"

Juno the original mold of the mausoleum crypt made especially for me awaits his date; I never did visit the tomb, really should start looking for another place to stay. Patient as impatient can be he is wearing gray as the evening wavers night. I am searching for something to write, I aspired to create a book of some sort, here I am with a sort of some; regardless this is when I decided not to know as I am unknowing of being in the same place as the rose.

A sneeze is all I need to know. Handkerchiefs do not soothe this nose; accompanied by red rivers all around the flesh I am caught in the fever of undesirable reaction.

"Are you alright?"

Never did she notice before how much misery a set of nostrils can exert for a fragrance without introduction. The thought alone makes me dizzy even at this moment; a hint of her presence no matter the disguise is an uncontrollable thrust of sinus.

Pinkness nuzzles the broken boy in between my cheeks; a kiss on the tip relieves the exposure of pain to a blush of silliness. Someone could of blindfolded me yet I would of known immediately; this is my obvious mistress.

"You never kissed my nose before...."

"I always wanted to.....you hide him from me."

Several woes about him and what we been through; everybody wants to smash him. Many a fist barreled straight into him for an eye crossing stare of madness only to be flung about by Shiva appendages into the beds of nodding men; each agreeing my bloody blob is worth an end.

"He's yours now...."

"I get to keep him...."

She knows how ticklish I am especially in her fingers; I am blushing while squeaking giggles through the serious shelves of romance novels, all of which tickle me even more, covers of couples hoisted in artistic impressionistic angles of uncomfortable positions instigates queerness. We become disappointed in the anticipation of a thrill expecting excitement we do not experience; how boring it is to be let down.

"If I get to keep your lips...."

"Hhmmm....."

"I really want them."

"Really....."

"Yeah....."

"You really do....."

"Yeah....."

"Really....."

"Mmmmm......yeah......."

I never noticed until written everyone looking at us with adorableness; must of been a bit of berries for everyone to nibble. The taste of delight for the intellect; books written for intelligence too busy for personal interests, better to bring a basket for harvest, some experiences we just cannot miss not by any means at all even if I must rage a war.

"I would fight for you too."

"What if you get hurt?"

"It would be worth it."

"What if you don't come back?"

"I will come back for your lips for sure."

"What if you don't?"

"There is nothing that will keep me away from you."

"Nothing at all...."

"Nothing......at all.....nothing.....no way......not happening......"

"Even this...."

Opening a booklet binder laying in between parchment paper is a set of keys; my eyes are focusing without catching the glimpse of what a lock could mean.

My mind is her lips, all I see, all I know, all I am, all I desire, all I will give for her lips, never enough, forever satisfied, still I must be with her lips no matter the consequence; even at this moment I feel the same.

Canals underneath my motionless face suffocates the torn man in the middle; he is about to undergo a series of convulsions as the caress of White Zinfandel ageless of peak calms him into a trance so deep neither of us realizes our lips travel to the zone of infiltration, straight to her tangerine pieces I am heading, no stopping this mad man, nobody except.......damn.

"You will take him there with you. I got you two separate rooms."

Two separate rooms, fucking hell all bloody warts of a god damned witch sprung from god damned bloody buckets of shit.....

"He will answer all your questions I assure you."

Lips is all I kiss to know; lips is all I care to know. Something about a man answering some sort of bloody thing, something about going somewhere, oh we never did check in; I prefer kissing instead. Who was talking to me again?