Where It Went, I Went Past

Drinking of mercy, flaming tongues speak
of taking a dip, inhibitions
crossing lips they fear are too thirsty.

Sinking feet menace aching hearts we
bite with mixed haste, blackening teeth when
drinking of mercy. Flaming tongues speak

of lust’s colours, Fascist charity
painting passion read-wide and blank, since
crossing lips they fear are too thirsty

leads them back, limiting liberty
to fantasies and coincidence.
Drinking of mercy, flaming tongues speak

of oppression faced with defiance,
how kisses placed on hands deny them
crossing lips they fear are too thirsty,

driving them to true hypocrisy,
thriving on depravity’s tasting.
Drinking of mercy, flaming tongues speak,
crossing lips they fear are too thirsty.