Psychic Kiss is Weird

Her Lips, Fresh Rambutan flesh
Succulent.
When i close my eyes the thoughts zoom in
The succulence
Juice run on the crevices of moist pink
Drops into a trench
Deeper than desire
quickly starts a fire
Scattering by the second, in all directions.
Hearts burn, mood switches turn,
Thoughts probe the depths like a mental submarine
Taking data, savoring data, sweet specimens
From the curious abyss of saliva
Her lips,
Is an ocean behind my lips.