Locomotion in female walls that runs a fire engine.
Plasma charisma and daring orgasma passing out on stars.
Hooting and Hollering, spinning and splintering,
This is the end of Sane Jane Main Jane Plain Jane–GONE.
The heat of the sun is the why she’s undone.
Puzzling through a sticky heat
And battling through a sweaty sheet–
Flirting the demon to outsmart the devil
And feeding the lion to quiet the lamb.
So much for the tango.
Maniacal strings hold the beautiful head
And the eyes hers and theirs smile softly instead
That maybe, could be, it is possibly just
That ending an engine is revving strange dust.
She could pull through the odds if the odds weren’t timed
But the clock whispers oddly and deepens the lines.
There were darker than light things that held on to tresses
And she spun to avoid the savage undressing.
Delicious and precary in an untested world.
She clamors to get in and then she clamors to get out.