Age lies.
When I was 17 you had just landed on earth.
Then you glowed up.
When I was 27 you were deciding how you felt about cereals.
Then I marinated.
When I was 37 you could drink in many places in the world, but not here.
Then I met you.
Then you met me.
Then we danced to Bouga’s Belsunce Breakdown.
Then you kissed me.
Then you went to the oasis for a spell and then went to the city.
Then you tasted my feet.
Then you let the music take you.
Then we got so high together.
Then you told me I could have whatever I wanted from you.
Then I drank your saliva.
Then I tasted your skin and you mine at the same time.
Then we got just violent enough with one another’s bodies.
Pulling them.
Biting them.
Sucking them.
When I am 47 you’ll be full peacock and I’ll think of you when I watch Les Miserables.
I told you to not come empty handed and you did not.
I wonder how obedient you can be, tomorrow?
Time will tell.