battered dough
She spits your name out like a piece of gum That sticks to the bottom of your shoe Her cross eyed stare focusing on your lips Unable to breath as she feeds you bits
bits of pie and cream bits of chicken and peas bits of tomatoes and beets potatoes baked and sweet Her skin gently crusted with salted crumbs Your taste scented from that sip of whisky beneath her you anguishly cry
forgive me














