a bird, you are, a crane- dancer of birds, you are
the bend and shape, the s t r e t c h e s your neck makes- you are
all that collapses and alters me. But this is not about me---
this is not about how beautiful you are---
a predator can fall in love with (you are) the prey
and when you are captured beneath my hands, I often can't tell
if you are fluttering against them or if I am trembling at the thought
of crushing- you are: carnivore and quarry
game and hunter
killer and ****
love and hate, you are, doing things things things so many things, to me
you are, feather falls and grace white tickling the calloused skin stone
where I ruffle the tufts of your neck, that I long to break---
---though this isn't true.
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 11:09 PM UTC
pendently crimson wearing elfin ******* &
chatoyant eyes
grown from boundless harvesting she is
lonely from survival, tenacious pedicel tight
against countless snapped, spent-black fleshlings.
ripe with costly price and left single amongst
decay she adopts (though morely wields)
venin wet juice that poisons whichever loves.
sev ering her stem
with weathered hands, i hoist her cheek to mine
where pressure reveals the tender path
of warmly dissolve.
though she strains & twines with rot and
(the core soaks through) i devour her ***
blight seeds, wholly
so she can grow (afflict me) elsewhere.
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 10:15 PM UTC