Tender

Like the night. A soft velvet expanse.
Reaching through time.
Through misty eyes which open wide.
They devour me.
In a kiss that kills me, over and over.
Yet tenderly I swim down.
Passing jagged words you keep inside.
Released, only to the moon.
As you howl them into nothingness.
For tender is your way.
Sweet bruises of affection which stay,
within us forever.
As we nestle into the tender wings of love.
Slipping into time.

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Le petit problème

I don’t need this, she said.
Shaking the thoughts from her head.
I need so much more.
The need to want you, is greater than before.
And the flicker, and the twitter of the voices in her skull.
Kept her moving, her heart bruising.
Keeps her soul crawling on the floor.

Outward ink

Where do you go, when the anger shows?
The pulsing in the veins.
Threatening to tear the skin.
I close my eyes. I need such protection.
My blood is as thick as oil, and my heart as black.
Why do the things you say splinter me?
Rising my inner mercury.
My hands vibrate to sonic sound.
Angels crying, and a war in heaven.
The fury felt through a thousand decades.
Torn from the very books that celebrate such divinity.
These thoughts and callous kisses close in.
Peeling back my lips to bare these well-worn teeth.
The bones break and shift.
Ascending my temples as you try to look away.
But look deep within this life.
Into these blackening pools of my eyes.
Do any of us win?
Struck skin and nitroglycerin on the tongue.
Blossoming florets of purple that do not smell sweet.
They only anaesthetise me in an opium blur.
Sending my skull into the floor.

Begin the end

You wipe this across me, smearing my soul.
Reasons dipped in the oil of old.
Setting fire to what was constructed in that cathedral heart.
Burn those books.
Too many voices and words that itch your eyes.
Wonderful illuminated choices.
So many options to despise.
You crumble away our past like a mosaic mountain.
Shifting each rock with the ones you throw.
Opinions that hurt, your augmented ammunition.
Laying waste to my field of reprieve.
Never a victim of happenstance.
A martyr all the same.
Bowing to your own reflected idol, hung up in gold and wood.
Or the blue that bruises my world.
Leaving a mark of departure, etched on my skin for an eternity.

(s)wallow

Dirty soul licker.
Causing us to stutter.
I know you want to stop.
Been smoking that thing too long. Been praying to the wrong God.
That One you trust in.
Confiscate such liberties and inconsequential humanity.
Swallow it down.
Feel it shudder.
Suck on the bruise until the nation rolls over.
Those bears in your head, scratching the cave wall.
Their arms a tangle of fur and blood.
Does it make you perspire?
You are the one. You oxygen thief.
Back firing and closing up these holes in our veins.
Choke this Trojan horse. Slipped in when no-one was looking.
That fascination in the situation.
Ready to cum.
A Climatic cabaret of guns and hate.
Mop it all up with that spangled banner.
Did it do it for you?

Down for the count

Hitting below the belt, is now your signature move.
Nurturing such a disregard for me.
Bruising my inner self, my words that always came up empty.
Spat out with blood and hope.
Your maturity sent me reeling, down to the mat.
Waiting for the bell.
You can tolerate me from afar you say.
Like breaking away from a hug, it leaves me devastated.
Yet I remain. Quiet and composed. Taught to hold my head up high.
Dodging intentional verbal daggers and manufactured truths.
Your truths, your reasoning. Your horse blinders on for style.
Over substance. Over my comfort.
Through this pedestal championing, you shoulder massaging.
Cuts deep the vein of my self-respect.
Making my feel ignorant to your perfect sane mind.
I stutter and slip, tripped up on your words.
Unable to reason or fight fire with fire. Caught in your orbit.
All this time wishing on a star that was merely your own satellite.
Just a poet in your world, trying to chase the undefinable.