Taste Me (Patreon)

Fifteen moons collide above, My heartbeat races phantom doves. On Tuesday's edge, I stand so still, Awaiting her who bends my will. She flips the sky and makes me sigh; Come undone, my echoes fly, And peer into her fractal eyes. "A taste of me would make you die."Quixotic innuendo—she commands like Nintendo Smash; Through surreal mazes we meander, kaleidoscopic crescendo clash. Be the sphinx to my enigma, an epiphany that blunders so, With labyrinthine murmurs docked in cacophonous thunder's glow. Touch, a catalyst of synapse collapse from synesthetic serenade; She is ethereal and esoteric, taste of blissful liminal charade. Set full sail, my conundrums—clandestine and cartographic; No man has seen these depths within my soul's own geographic.Ephemeral euphoria, we sing through paradoxia, But bones be always epical and whimsical, woven severing oneiric seams. Yet ambrosial apotheosis ignites my core so extreme, Lost in somnambulant Ambien fever-dreams.