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

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