and with its soft touch picks the lock. Slug gently oils the hinges.
The bulb relaxes, slightly parts—just enough for Tadpole!
He slips in, slides through the corridor, locates your levers
and opens wide the gate. My mouth manoeuvres to the exit
as I patiently await your attempted escape.
When you exhale, I swallow your spirit in one ecstatic gulp.
With this kiss I seal you in me. Thus blackmailed,
you dip your tongue in my ink and sign on the dotted line.
The contract reads: I am yours; you are mine.
... Sanko Lewis
