The smooth of
my
skin
slowly slides on
the curves of your lips
as you
slowly slurp
me
into the cave of
your mouth.
Far from spaghetti,
I was
a
parasitic worm
sucked into the depths of
your raging
intestines,
squeezing my form until
I was a
misshapen
lump,
puddy.
This is more than
fading into the
backdrop of
you
and your desires.
Ingested,
in the belly of the
horse.
I
wish I had
lashed out
rather than
crumbled.