Sher Chandley, Roodepoort, Gauteng, Johannesburg, South Africa

Hot Lips

I beat my thoughts
I carry the past
Like a gift
And a burden
It's relentless
Like a never ending night
Experience that propels
Or stagnates like a brake
Like a rust stain on a rotting wall
A forgotten piece of graffiti
Maybe I am invisible
A faint speck
In the vast blue sky
An obscure non entity
Do you see me ?
Sometimes I'm a little mad
Then I don my hooded cloak
Given to me by wizard elves
I mount my Dragon
Straddle her like glue
As she soars and takes flight
Her leathery bat wings
Beating time to some old song
" little children playing in the park
Chasing butterflies....... "
Then bearing down silently
On the field of my regrets
Setting it all aflame
In an inferno of fiery tears
Burning all things unfulfilled
Rub her jewel encrusted belly
Return to our cave of mirrors
Relish our imperfections
Even those we care not to admit
Then kiss her hot lips
See the glint in her eyes
As she musically whispers
You always do what you want
You always write what you like
You're a strange soul
But your intentions are good .

© 2019 Sher Chandley