Love sponsors little deeds,
Of which a kiss stands right on top,
That emotional feel of succulence,
That like a thornless cactus
Makes you warm and wet at the same time.
And we learn that a kiss stands her ground,
Making inroads on a flesh
That can dance in the name of lust,
When you’re too drunk to understand
That all lips that come your way,
Don’t necessarily carry a license to la la land.
Still we make kisses while the distance is nigh
As we become landing strips
And launching pads, cheering on a democracy
Where all that you do in the name of love,
Makes little curios that stand out,
Making you fall to your most primal self
While making a banquet of your savagery
The truth is, what more can you ask for from democracy
Than love marking her territory
On your mistress’s’ lips.