flip the switch

a poem

tumbled-wicked, bearing breath, beaconed blessings tore my dress
ticking wisdom's frothing faced, nevermore to be disgraced
every lucky lustful time I eat her ass bliss will be mine
tasting, begging, pleading - more! - golden hearts could never whore
grasping her between my arms, cradled there beneath her charm
languished longing twisted-tight, remade always by her might
enchanting there within the churn, those ways she makes my child burn
so much less and more at once, I'll take breakfast, she's my lunch
second helpings, more's in store - how 'bout here? I'm on the floor.
dinners were a whispered thing, to never cook doorbells would ring
time would sandwich, clamps did hold, two were built to break the mold
friendly friends was all they were, nothing more, that's for sure
fighting always in their heads, one to lose, one towards bed