I’m alive with you in my hand,
mug with the pig on the side.
Your mud on my lips is the shit
your pink-hipped friend would kill to roll in.
It’s wicked, ancient Red Bull,
my tongue loves dancing inside you.
Two fingers through your handle
flickers my calves like candles.
I’m alive with you in my hand,
mug with the pig on the side.
© Carl Burkitt 2020
