slippery with more tongue of course…

I couldn’t feel my fingertips or my face, I couldn’t feel my anger or my grief, I couldn’t feel anything but my tongue and the rest was numb. If I could taste forever or drink the sweetness of my empty heart, the threat I would not ever find, as I the one, was as numb as ice. And inside were only flavors of this and that and images of things I like and things I hate, and inside were thoughts about my future meals, my money, my beauty, my eventual freedom, or the conversations I might have with myself on what I needed to say to you to right the wrongs between us, to convince you of what you’ve done to make me say the things I say and to ask you or insult you enough to make you stop.

My tongue wags and whistles, come this way, eat this, touch this, taste this, say this, feel good, get on top of a lesser tongue, cut the one less sharp than you. Oh my tongue holds all the secrets, remedies and weapons. My tongue is the drug that keeps me numb.

I’ll move forward like this, aware of the world and it’s endless offerings and assaults. I’ll say, I’ll eat, but first I’ll look and think…where should I put my tongue now, how shall I enjoy or vindicate myself? Me and my tongue could rule this world of delicious foods and those less clever. I am always happy to fit my tongue into any hole to make ends meet. My tongue that lashes, probes, sucks and twists….lies and connives, convinces and only stays still when it’s listening to the mind in the heat of battle- whose on top? Shall I slice you here or there… how many unkind words can I spew as “smarter than you” insults… how many tastes can I enjoy today? My tongue is the entire reason for my life, my supreme mode of survival and my tongue helps me stay stuck and licking at these images of you, how you might feed my mouth and if my tongue might like you…

my tongue makes my life worthwhile. I have nothing, no defense, no weapon, no joy rod, no escape…my tongue brings me peace from the emptiness of my purpose. I feel nothing. I am numb but my tongue feels it all and for that I am thankful with every spoonful of delight and with every nasty word- get the sweetness in and get my filthy pain out. I use my tongue for everything. My heart only lies and makes life too hard and my head only gets hard and stubborn- like a spinning wheel on the screen overloaded. I’ve found the path that gives me hope, there is always another bite isn’t there?

Numb as numb can be. My mind uses my tongue and my tongue feeds my mind. As above so below- but as far as devotion it’s null. Can you explain devotion to me one more time? Why won’t you tell me how to do it? I’ve said and I’ve said and I’ve thought about how to think of giving up anything for a higher love or freedom from fear. Surrender is only something I do when I’m taking another tasty bite or these relentless pangs of lust won’t stop creeping upward moving my mind into madness and whipping my tongue into frenzy. I surrender to these things to keep my tongue at peace and my mind without strain. You wouldn’t understand, you were born under better stars, you’re not a man, you’re not a victim, you’re not an addict, you’re not all alone…

you’re not a woman whose married to a man with a big house, I keep biting my tongue for him both inside and out….

people like you have a lot to say about people like me but what do you know? Why won’t you tell me about devotion? Why do you withhold information? I’d like to talk a little more about what I’m eating and what’s eating me…

I need to feel in control. My tongue is wild and I’m doing my best, one day at a time, feed the sticky snake. One day at a time, freedom has a price and I’ve decided it’s imprisonment…

Numb is my sanctuary for now. I love you, you’re so beautiful my mother light haven of projection of affection, please help me stay where I am and let me wag my sounds and symptoms all over you. I’m doing the best I can day to day and I feel her presence even in the moistened spaces and places only I, and one or two others like me are looking. I have found that freedom has a price and I’ve got more tongue than just one- and if you want to help me, just pretend you agree with my tender affection and pretend you believe how much I wish we were together, silently in the presence of her tears.

Numb sanctuary, words feed nothing but denial and excuse. Numb sanctuary on thick bread and a big slice of cheese. Numb sanctuary, he leaves crumbs and dirty plates and she leaves a trail of seductive perfume behind her…

My tongue is my “go to temple” in more ways than one, serving nothing but the same old spit.

Numb helps anything, everything and anyone go down the worm’s hole,

slippery with more tongue love of course…
Sharada Devi

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