Peetszuh

I love pizza. It's the boyfriend I never had. It's the light to my dark mind. It's the ying to my yang. Call me crazy if you want. I don't care.

It's my favourite junk food. The grease drips into my ravenous mouth like a faucet. The BIG FAT crust clenches my teeth with fervor. The fake cheese gushes out savory sauce as I bite into it. The accepted colour of love. This taste lights my fire. Delicious.

When I'm sucked into the tel lie vision, I bemusedly eat the equivalent of one fridge full of food plus a cupboard multiplied by the drawers of condiments divided by the spices, subtracting salt. It sounds like a lot. But it's not. The number flies by like Superman - that's because it's not important.

Pizza. My most popular one is a basic pepperoni pizza.

I get so weak in the knees/
I can hardly breathe/
I lose all control/
I want it to stay with me...forever!

Pepperonis taste like heaven. They excite my taste buds; jittery and jumpy. It's a packed playground in there. Saliva slithers to the sides of my mouth. It slips out sometimes too. I look like I just saw the sexiest man walk by when it does.

Pizza is so good. I'll love it forever. It can kill me slowly - once and once only. But it's still good.

The T R A V E L L I N G SKY . . .

The sunless sullen sky,
grasping its many eyes of wonder
glistening, gleaming, and glowing
when the hands of time
slowly, near each other for a touch of darkness
A tainted picture, travelling west,
to the sundry scenes of the earth, chasing the daylight
Clouds, cluttered with grey nothings
like the hearts of the heinous.
Silence walks in circles,
The wind howls with the wolves of the wild
The sky,
a marvel in the mind.