Kissing Andromeda

There is a fat mad woman
Her head pokes through burlap.
Andromeda’s prodigy
In my space, poking me with her pen.
Her lips are flapping, smacking spittle,
Waxy smears on her chin,
A protruding peach pit knob.
Drained and un-kissed lips
Wrap tight over warm pink gums.
Too late, she sees me
Abandoned by gravity,
Lost focus in her black melton.
She pauses, closes her eyes,
with sighs, breaths me
into a hail of dislodged teeth,
spewing dust tails
like cold, crazy comets.
Andromeda sways and lurches.
Our tongues touch and flicker,
While I’m mouthing
Deep muted thoughts of madness.

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