Socialization

Wry rivulets

rescue me from a righteous thirst.

Parched.

Parchment.

The alien writing in a familiar language

I can’t speak.

My ego strokes Me.

Clotting,

the road of glad tidings

bottlenecked by a beer.

Piss flavored social gold.

Watch the game.

Bats never lose to the fruit.

Night never escapes,

Can’t slip away.

My slip,

my nipples thrilled by silk.