The Eightfold Path

I'll Brain You

I'll brain you one fine day. Then, thoughts away,
I'll place my tongue flap soft against you brain
and cat I'll lap up your remaining days.

I'll drink you fresh squeezed brain cell juice each morning,
and eat heart pâté on toast for luncheon.
These are electrified moments, stolen from porn.

If tasked, I could eat brain everyday,
and learn the ins and outs of all your ways,
and learn your taste in faith and praise.

If asked, I would wish my head close to yours.
So close they fuse melt. No sucking through straws,
nor to invade your shame or read your thoughts.

And there would be no need for strip tease guessing.
My super power would be a pressence;
not flight or greatest might, but confidence

(those nonchalant proud celss) in multitude.
I hope (the smell of fresh cooked bread) a tune
we love will make our great fine minds balloon.

And as we decorate the walls and floors
with pretty coloured faraway thoughts,
a crow would pick us up like none before.