The Good place

Supplies For The Recurring Tunnel

Listen to me very carefully.
A joke.
The joke. The funniest one.
Think about it.
Probably, the most hilarious movie you saw, twice.
Or simply, me tickling that neck, like a mice.
Or look into a mirror, that pug-nose should suffice.
That moment,
As your face is concentrating inwards,
as your lips are stretching; freckle to freckle,
As your eyes just couldn’t open the door.
Hold it right there.

Hold it right there.
As your eyes just couldn’t open the door.
Your diaphragm is ready for the violent wobble.
Go back to the fiefdom of faceless fowling.
The one with the door you couldn’t open.
Crush that door by the scream you’ve held by the tip.
Crush that door-handle under that tooth-tugging-tongs-grip.
Hold it right there.
   
Hold it right there.
Crush that door handle under the tooth-tugging-tongs-grip.
But, I think you should loosen it now.
At least a little bit.
You might dismantle your old man’s finger.
Despite of it being too big for you.
Or maybe you are too small for it.
No one’s asking you to stop screaming.
There were no filters then.
Hold it right there.

Hold it right there.
There were no filters then.
there are no filters now
As you portal into the dream.
There are no filters here.
As you finally open your eyes.
Hold it right there.

Hold it right there.
As you finally open your eyes.
Go home…-run.
Go wild
Go lucid.
Like when I wanted to kiss you.
Exactly 37 minutes after I saw you.
(But, Hehe, Consent.)
You might feel a little content.
Hold it right there.
Don’t let go.