prevarication
a salacious yearn forms a tryst from a long
a pool that flows the floor about your feet
as you hang and drip dry your wagging tongue
drooling a mouthful of relaxed poison tasting sweet
to then recede your gaze to a table laid bare
our eyes seeded across a room of a slum
and the slow fall into a flagon of hope
drilled my temples with the rhythmic beat of a celtic drum
