Post by Robin on Jan 13, 2006 20:26:09 GMT -8
This was a spur of the moment type thing. Let me know what you think.
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The taste of Tabasco sauce haunts her.
It wakes her in the night from pleasant cosmic dreams,
Dreams of aliens and locker rooms and enchanting love-bites,
As shocking as a splash of cold water in the morning:
Spicy tingling lips pressed against hers,
Giving her the gift of wakefulness.
She licks her lips constantly,
Wondering if maybe that taste of Tabasco lips will linger,
Wondering if she will ever taste those hot-sauce lips for real,
A sickening love as painful as that hot-sauce in her throat:
Sliding down in a cup of Joe,
Waking her up to reality.
She writes delirious notes in her diary,
About how she met an alien at her father’s restaurant,
About soulful eyes and magic hands,
An alluring taste of Tabasco on his lips:
Splattered onto everything like a little boy’s wet dream,
Giving him the spice that he craves.
She flutters frantically when the diary is stolen,
Flocking to the alien to tell him of the deed,
To tell him about her desire for his Tabasco lips,
Tell him of the alluring taste of lust on her tongue:
Burning up the roof of her mouth like a fresh lava rock,
Spilling her words before she can stop them.
She reels drunkenly when he finally kisses her,
Meeting him at every opportunity,
Meeting him in the strangest and most open places,
Tasting the Tabasco on his tongue:
Feeling the burn in her mouth for real now,
Kissing so deeply she can’t stop.
-------------------
The taste of Tabasco sauce haunts her.
It wakes her in the night from pleasant cosmic dreams,
Dreams of aliens and locker rooms and enchanting love-bites,
As shocking as a splash of cold water in the morning:
Spicy tingling lips pressed against hers,
Giving her the gift of wakefulness.
She licks her lips constantly,
Wondering if maybe that taste of Tabasco lips will linger,
Wondering if she will ever taste those hot-sauce lips for real,
A sickening love as painful as that hot-sauce in her throat:
Sliding down in a cup of Joe,
Waking her up to reality.
She writes delirious notes in her diary,
About how she met an alien at her father’s restaurant,
About soulful eyes and magic hands,
An alluring taste of Tabasco on his lips:
Splattered onto everything like a little boy’s wet dream,
Giving him the spice that he craves.
She flutters frantically when the diary is stolen,
Flocking to the alien to tell him of the deed,
To tell him about her desire for his Tabasco lips,
Tell him of the alluring taste of lust on her tongue:
Burning up the roof of her mouth like a fresh lava rock,
Spilling her words before she can stop them.
She reels drunkenly when he finally kisses her,
Meeting him at every opportunity,
Meeting him in the strangest and most open places,
Tasting the Tabasco on his tongue:
Feeling the burn in her mouth for real now,
Kissing so deeply she can’t stop.
