Your hieroglyphics tickle silver blood;
O-negative obedience to rarity, riot, and filth–
the swamp moans necessary evils to the sun.
Vagabond cloaked in orange;
target for your bleu–
waits for the reverse;
salivates over the wait,
listens to her hair follicles
into stressful orgasm within her hands.
The temperature condones slashes
for the serial killer;
peppermint blades of stranger–
cleave her indigestion,
cause for new feeling–
Confrontation isn’t the proper pepper for a lady;
your hieroglyphics smudge legitimacy…