Every second of the clock
reminds me of your
original intentions.
Sugary sweet as nectar,
yet salty like the Dead Sea.
You left me thirsty
and aroused
like a suffocating penitent
hung on a telephone pole
in a Biblical wilderness
where a wild beast licked my toes.
Ungrateful friend,
who told you to pet the lion
that laps at my toe nails?