Ice cream

They told me the ice cream tasted nice,
But later, I discovered it was my tongue.
They told me her velvet smooth skin felt exquisite,
But later I discovered it was the tip of my finger.
They told me that shit smelled disgusting,
But it was my nose and my bowels.

Was it even the tip of my finger that felt nice,
Or was it somewhere around my heart and my brain.
That felt some excruciating pleasure,
And got all mixed up where it came from?


Back to the list of all my poems








Visitor No: 454653