STATUS QUO

Offer you a look from which you’ve spent a million years in dearth.
Grab your neck, and smack you hard, so you would know your worth.
Tear down your tethers in countless tatters.
I should do all of that that matters,
So you would fall out of your circumference.

Spin you around on one leg, a trillion circles.
Sate you with love, then hate, then not count your gargles.
Make you vomit your rosy pink; rejoice your blue-turned-purples.
I should trap you short in your tracks in one infinite constant.
I should do all of that, just this instant.

Hook my fingers in your hoops, upset once their enigmatic loops.
Then lay you down, and roll you back and forth straight.
Bang you like one ringing bell. Use you like hell.
And make you appreciate this brand new existence.

Pluck you apart from your treasured dreams.
Prick the bubble of your vanilla reality.
Lick the charcoal of your soul. Suck you whole.
Repeat this cruelty, so you would leap a new distance.
I should do all of that, just this instant.

I should do, all of that, just this instant.

gallery_1424207683-fifty-shades-of-grey-rope

 

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