Riddle

Riddle

Salivate over my body.      Let it to float into view
like those white        children’s balloons.    Your parched throat
will remember  me        in the year        of the sheep.
Looking like one.   Believe     my meat    hasn’t been tasted
for so long & don’t          detest me for       arrhythmic wandering.
If mood switches      or if I’m a no-show         well        that’s life.

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