I made-out with Houston this past weekend. All over this city. I tongued it all, I tongued this city down.
Walking home from a party, I mugged with the parking meter lady on the side of the street.
I went through the Burger King drive-thru, and made-out with the fry cook, the shake lady, and a grandmother of five placing her order.
I licked the cashier at the gas station when I bought a six-pack. Does that count?
The squirrels tickled my nose, the cardinals chirped me hot, and I danced and necked alone with an owl in the moonlight.
I made-out with an ant bed, and you know what? It was worth the welts.
I kissed the trees when you weren’t looking. I felt-up grass over dirt and concrete, and I pressed my face against your car window.
I fell asleep next to my hand, after making love.
And when I woke up, I started all over again – kissing the air and the sun until my lips cracked, until they bled.