Disorientation







You taste…
Like a circus

A spin and tumble of pretenses
Painted upon your lips with carmine crayon
Contortionists wrapped around trapezes
That are swung by the blustery air of crystallized elephant trunks
Glittering feathers and a tar top hat
Bowing as I clap my satiny seal fins emphatically
…Knowing you live to amuse me



You smell…
Like a rhinestone

Jagged edges carved by resentful diamonds
Still, you taunt them with a glinted tongue
A wave of ambrosial pastels you pull from within
 And wave in the air as sparkles
Freshly shaved steel and silver
Waltz around my finger and sing a jaunty tune
…As I inscribe personal value to the valueless



You feel…
Like a matador

Red and gold muscles that elude me
With an agile and graceful cloak of crimson tests
Porous banderillas lick my shoulder blades
While my hooves lap up the dust beneath your feet
Languid horns never skim the taut fabric
Keeping you upright and balanced upon the balls of your feet
…Yet I insist on chasing the rubies you dangle in front of me



Because, in the end…
You always…
Taste...
Like a circus

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