Your moon teeth
Grind against my skin.
Another cheesy back seat moment,
Intense,
Absorbed.
Oh how I long for a moment
A cheesy back seat moment,
Where you're telling me those words.
But you use your moon teeth,
To rub against my lips,
To tug and pull.
I am but a vegetable,
And this scraping,
This burning in my mouth,
Cannot keep up with you.
My vegetable mind
Cannot process.
So I lie and wait to escape
From your moon teeth
And you.
