Monday, June 27, 2011

mental

Alfred Georg Weissenegger
I got green mint on my tongue, babe, just like I got you on my mind. Sticky and sweet. Alcohol drives me linguistic, spins me around an imaginary you, I sway like a stripper, holding my heart between my legs. Alcohol enhances work efficiency, improves metabolism and develops melanoma of multiplied ecstasies, let us two die from the cries of the cells longing for multiplication. We are the devices of our own instincts, we are bright green, mint-fresh tools for love-making. We do what we have to. We embarrass younger couples. We look down on love cliches. We are one. We call ourselves together, one word meaning two. I shift your gear, babe, you shift my skirt. So we begin...

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