Talking Shadows

I talk in shadows that swarm and bulge,

Wet in sentiments, awkward and loud,

I have things to say that clink and clang,

The type to think before I understand,

Feel a brick covered in stinky feathers,

Ping an unlikely thought with pink edges,

A wonderfully real treat of thumping fun,

Something I feel jumping on my tongue,

I’ll lend an ear to my own airy delight,

Tasting with cannibal glee not very light,

To hear what I say is contritely only as is,

No different from a coldly delivered kiss,

On a wide slab of skin as dry as cement,

Not even quenched a bit while I lament,

 

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