Shaken

Click, click, clacking,

radios spinning

in wonderment

at vowels

spat out

by my tongue alone,

in the night

as I dream

awake.

Orgasming out

sex dolls,

juicing flames,

forked fucks,

confused laughs,

harmonic whispers,

erect philosophies,

sensual shamans,

pagans named

in different

masks

keeping

abstract

whirlwind time,

boots set ever so delicately,

on the floor,

after banging and blitzed,

pressed backs

against cupboards,

titillating the glassware,

scratch marks

down the lily and violet

wallpaper

to the left of the bay window,

honeydew holiday

breakfast nook,

we moaned together,

though then I flashed to my

inner mockingbird harlequin,

stained with

crumbling castles,

cruel alchemy

performed on top of me,

tortured apothecaries

enacted,

poisoned elixirs tested

out on my breath,

my sex,

my bones broken,

and blood

bled dry,

round and round

we go,

with the wrath and miracles,

merry go weary,

and I wondered

if even the ceiling fan

would bother to care,

would remember my name,

when I go

quietly and quickly

from here

with a shudder

and a lick of my Cheshire lips,

a mad hatter shake of my hips.

Goodbye alice,

oh how I miss you

in the mists and the sun.