Obsessive Night

Obsessed with my tongue,
words are bittersweet like lemonade
An unexplainable feeling comes over me;
a natural high takes over,
the way a Harlequin romance novel
draws little hearts before your eyes

On that very hour in-between the change
taking place from Winter to Spring,
a lilt of evening air builds a nest
on my face; the bodies that shine
during eve, simulate icicles
hanging off tree limbs

I stay on a little longer to catch words,
my tongue has grown to look
like a frog catching insects

I shut down the sounds except
for one quiet fluff tickling my ear;
that of a transient firefly.

My tongue has a never dying ember,
keeping me in love with my passion

By. Vanessa Ramos