I am pretty close to doing it again.

The lips of the pitcher plant just calling my name

A sweet aroma just whisking me away

 

Why am I so attracted to the bright flashy colors

Nature’s mark of the poisonous

What’s that you say?

You are attracted too?

Find your own poison!

This boy is mine

 

I fell for it once.

I was halfway down the tube when it vomited me up again.

I still can’t tell you why.

I have a few flashy colors of my own,

Thank you very much.

 

Not until I was flying, yards away from the plant did I know

How much I had escaped.

So fly-friend, why I am so ready to get snapped up in its jaws again,

Well I’m not sure.

 

Look friend.

Oh look at the curve of its body.

The sleekness of its lips,

Look at its luscious sweet

Apple-red coloration, the bright garden green

It’s calling me pulling me making me

Oh I must fly to it I will love it

It will love me

We will be one

 

What. Huh? What fog?

No no no but this one is better. It respects the sun in the sky.

Yeah it loves it with all its heart.

What do you mean? I see no fog.

Just beauty. I tell you!

There is. no. fog.

My eyes are clear.

I think I can wager it.

I am on the lip ready to take the fall. I brought some string.

I will be able to pull myself out.

I will be good.

I know my limits.

I will be good… Right?