Travel Shorts

Lara sad and flat-pack
grasps hand.
Abstract attack ransacks by slap back
at flats. Whack, clack n crack at that;
hack asthma as rhythm,
Lara - a nymph - stands back, aghast.
And as far as far can grabs masala.
Swaps parts, transplants hands as flashy
balls fly.
My hand smacks an almanac.
Lara gasps.
Stacks maps at dawn and
abracadabra!
Has fatal attack...

I - nihilistic lyricist - find him
This 'I' is indivisibly criticising,
inviting irking crisis.
His dizzying impish grin
visibly minimising this.
Imbibing inky gin in my lips
I mimic gigglingly this smiling.
I try inflicting witticisms,
inviting his kiss. My wish is
lignifying.
I wish inciting rhythmic, skirmish rising,
Him - dizzyingly writhing in divinity -
twitching his virility in my lips,
In this vicinity I am his.
I'm trickishly slicing lyrics in
his thirsty kiss -
citing him inspiring.
His thrills stirring in my tits
I jitteringly sing;
twinning drinking jism with my
stringy sighing
igniting
firing.