lift me in
a handwritten
focused though
a synesthetic lens

your fine eyes cut
through prose
like an electric
tongue kiss

your calm voice
treads the rush
of sensory
each syllable
is a new course

let me taste the way
through words
to my truth:

the lake is red koolaid
agreement is sausage
luck snaps of carrot
insult is a bloody lip

i find my voice
when you speak
your mind

the first man
to certify
my sensory

i’ll never
forget the taste!


Unholy Imaginings Copyright © by Kat Karney. All Rights Reserved.

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