LIP SERVICE
As suns swap and moons switch -
I grow skinny.
Zygomatic bones surface,
Zealously pushing against my pale skin.
My hair browns and each stands segregated,
And oh yes,
My eyes sink in their boned deep sockets.
When that moment comes;
Time to send one up the exuberant house,
He sees my boned cheeks and sunken eyes,
He notices my brown disarrayed hair and the pale wrinkled skin.
So he puts on my own shoe,
Wears a deplorable face and for my sake,
He persuades me to push him up and wait for the bite to drop down my feet.
With the ultimate desperate stomach,
I confide in his free talking tongue,
Push him up and hold my breath,
Overshadowed and pregnant with hope,
Of receiving a mouth watering bite.
Once inside, the door is closed,
The locks are fastened,
Out of my sight he stays
But when he reappears,
His bulged stomach leads the way.
I put on a long face and yawningly whine,
But he rubs his plumped stomach and belches.
He's satisfied to have served me well;
A lip service.
Untamed Ink