We kiss, and our tongues make an alliance,
The sacrilege at the end of a long bar,
The patrons hate public displays of affection
But not us, we can’t help ourselves,
We’re begging for bite marks and bruises,
Our conjoined mouths are intelligent machines,
well oiled with beer and whiskey,
Her eyes scream “Tell me more, more, more.”
Our knees mingle as our legs dangle
Off stools as tall as the tower of babel,
We are hung up on power lines.
I want to know you better than anyone.
We can eat whole days, and never get our fill.
Everything you said is exactly what I wanted to hear,
But before you speak I just want you to be sure.
gablesworth 