Spitting with my silver forked tongue
the devil and I moved in toe
an oxymoron: I love my phone
his power inspires me
like moonbeams kissing the sea
Two lovers.
Walking perplexed.
White the colour of beautiful truth
Red. The colour of a beautiful lie.
Tongues dancing the kiss of death
who would have thought, what we said
we'd really do.
Hands up.
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