Bantering with Octagons

If I were you
& you were me
with the shoe
on t'other foot
could you put
that sole foot
without shoe
in your mouth
or would we
entangled be
entwined of limbs
but not of mind

nwob ɘbiƨqυ ɘʜɈ ni bɘxɘlqɿɘq
 
He told me I could reach but I couldn’t no matter how much I stretched my toes...a calf cramp on the verge. A hand held out...just in case. Presumably dehydrated for lack thereof and plentiful of the other. In my element, swirling around me, Caipirinha’s lined up on the edge. In that moment if time could stand still...a simple nothing...but everything right to block out the noise.
 
If'n I was a square
but not a corner sitter
could I draw a round
making it a circle
and play duck duck goose
 
duck duck....
hey, what happened to my goose?

can't play without the goose

aaargh
ain't that just the way

go sit in my corner
be square
fit better that way
 
toe stretching calf cramps
I hate them so
I'd rather bathe forever

fortitude of flounders fellate frequently
I'm told
I have some boy-friends who say they're wonderful

is there a tongue-fish?
this is so not fair
 
The fish swam, but was circling the drain.
Gimped with a bum fin and sloughing off the scales...
needing fresher water.
Swim out of that sludge little mermaid,
let your tendrils be free.
 
Wanna go on a road trip?
Coastal 1, here or there
I know a little beach dump
End of the road, prolly no bears

Fishin’ at midnight
Toasting at the Dawg
Bring a beanie
May be 45 mph fog
 
The morning silver blade
Startled with the incoming scene
Was that her in the reflection
A mere flash of paired genes

Our twin eyes took my breath
On second look ‘twas not there
Was it she looking after me
Over miles to see how I fare.
 
My covers sucked me in the cocoon far too early,
Internal heat busted thru
No need to check what I suspect
Merely a nap at midnight was due

I can hear the snow swirling outside
Wind chimes clanging like crazy
Deep gong lulls me under
Mind but still a bit hazy

Blanketed fluff, true to the day.
 
couple of minutes
so here it goes.

weren't nothing but maude getting it
with the perkins boy.

shouldn't of watched as long's i did.

that's it.

can i go now?
 
There he was was, monogram askew, one side ajar like he’d forgotten to shut the door. He’d play these games and scoff when I’d call him on it. I knew better. Add some ice and a nother splash of quaff du jour...I’d bide my time. Patience doesn’t come easily, but such sweet rewards if I would just shhhhhhh...

Sexy as fuck!
 
It seems obvious that butterscotch frogs in sparkly stockings would leave fingerprints. Therefore heralding the arrival of the fat Stormtrooper's ass.
one thread i don't think i've ever read before - starting from the beginning, it's an eye-opener :froggin:
 
pleasure tickles my toes reading the wondrous walrusing of words found here in this twilight thread, where notions float diaphanous and green, searing minds not lungs as cabbages dance on a pale hill
 
that's kinda the spirit mosts left.
least that's what i keep taking from it.

let the inner moan not shut you
 
searing moans and cabbages
cocoons and heat and midnight snow
we bleed
we sing
we drink

let's take that road trip
the horizon calls
 
There was a road trip and the road was closed.
No plan rerouted to plan F

There’d be moans alright.
 
thunder punctuated their lovemaking
and with eyes closed he could see
the lightning of them
strobe and chase
across tsunami tops waiting to break
to inundate their shores
 
perched a parsnip on its lips
and pushed
pushed
pushed....

perhaps a tall gimlet and some baby oil
would do?

no pictures!
christ, baby!
no damned pictures...
 
baby oil
and gimlets
a perfect day could make

sun and sex and sweet music too

camera clicks
where is it?
 
It’s on the coast
End of the road

Nature houses the church
An old log, your pew

Don’t click it, just absorb
Impressions kept to re-anew
 
A scant glance and scroll.
Meh.
The read will not be read more, there.
The music changed and now hold a used up dance card.
 
sunshine and passion in a jar
strawberry jam that has more
life
more sense
more joi-de-vivre
than a blastocyst
bi-partisan, too
organic
ready to spread
begging for fresh biscuits
gimme a spoon to dip
consume all those once potential
life-of-plants
 
I have a bedtime story for you.
Come tuck me in and I’ll whisper it in your ear.

Once upon a time...
there was drilling under the midnight sun.
 
I have a bedtime story for you.
Come tuck me in and I’ll whisper it in your ear.

Once upon a time...
there was drilling under the midnight sun.
i think i heard that one already
though not in such dulcet tones
it didn't have a happy ending
the seas turned black
life itself reduced
to strangled gasps of the irrespirable
fear and moaning under a red eye
shades of byron
 
To read between the lines
The black turns clear
There be gasps of life
Release the sludge
Spill!

Fin.
 
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