Extreme

She likes the strange taste That often sits on her tongue Mouth wide open and waiting She is empty if not filled Broken if less than fixed Forgotten if not thought of Grey is a colour not seen She wants more than it all Swallowed the moon as though It was cheese and drank The sun as though it was rum Her mouth is a deep portal To a realm other than this She stores all that she finds In this unexplored land A universal process that Cannot be fought or rebelled She can hear your thoughts As they slip into her mouth And can taste your song As it becomes her own