Jezebel Kisses Again



Lips wet and warm placed on mine,
Soft and full of care as love they profess.
Tongue sweet as fresh honey,
Dripping words bursting with desire, lying passions.

A kiss of deep hidden symbolism,
A caress unfamiliar, a touch of foreign display,
With an irresistible effect, which the wise condemningly call wicked,
My mind is brutally bruised by images it flashes inside it,
My soul shivers from its fierce embrace,
My skin tingles and burns underneath by the waves of emotions, it breaks loose.

Is this really a kiss, to radio one’s love over?
Is it indeed well meaning, here to aid my heart’s beating?
Or is it just Jezebel’ lips resting heavily on mine?
Sweet as if dipped in sugars, yet bitter once swallowed; a poison for wild beasts?
Dressed in the forbidden fruit’s skin, while diseased at its core?
Polished and shining of starry coatings, but with unbleachable ugliness.
Jezebel kisses again as Ticks suck life off their hosts.


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