This tuition is my holster; I want
to put my tongue inside you, let you
feel me driving home. I want to clasp
that buckle that is your mainstay and
have it come. Is that okay?
I am savage, a licorice-face, compared
to the lily-white you live. My messages
are all complete, and I can read them
backwards and front. Make no mistake.
What I give is what you take.
The heretofore blameless me can kill,
can willow the wallow and come home
still. Is it any wonder then that we are
watching movies beneath the curtain of
this night? Let me see you moving;
let me watch you fight.