balloon

joy comes when I bite

madly out of life,

juicy like a peach,

filled to the brim,

to look like a balloon

made lusty sandwich

with the body's bread

baked in mind's jungle,

(mine... and his...)

happiness is felt when

the lips, (mine and his)

whistle dementedly

thru eyes' intersection,

luring the traffic lights

of love's gravitation,

to create a beautiful day

while respires the moans

as we get consumed