here you smell of bergamot, or galuises tobacco
and i finally succomb to the cul in my throat,
I say, “I think I love you...”
you wanted to try it out like a new pair of shoes
you said, “ i love you nicholas rivers,...”
but i had already begun to hear your lovesong
your voice was like honey and i wanted to drink you
until a spiders web of entropy consumed the veins within me
yielding to you toads my garrulous tongue
turns it into a carnation bud
bursting and ripe like wet mangoes