You come in the light and steal our young, while they are in their silent slumber.
I have seen you break their skin asunder, with glee displaying their insides for your greedy eyes to see.

You take in the name of hunger and leave us wanton, while they are in their silent slumber.
I have seen you in all of your malignancy, for it’s your stomach our children now encumber.

You leave in the night and let us protect what is left; all the while they are in their silent slumber.
I have seen you and others, our young only help to swell your number.

Said the duck to the human.

My opalescent dreams hang just out of reach, milky, spoilt with waking.

Burlesque imaginings wishfully realized out of the breach, fantasies of my own making.

Voluminous clouds of confusion cover our weighty decisions with the familiar sheen of normality.

Maybe you’ve just woken now, part way through, awakening with surprise at the life half lived.

Do you want restitution for my crimes past committed?

Is your code of silence a loud cry for justice?
Fine, be free from my life and all of its many normalities.
You've pushed me away for all of your false realities.
There were no threads of life to unwind from the next.

Soon you were simply gone.
No loud cries, those were really only my quiet sighs.
No justice needed, the jury filed out barely heeded.
I'm left alone with no condemner.

There's nothing to atone for, you were the ***** *****.
I'll make a mess, I won't be quiet.
Is this just making it worse? Reveling in memories like a second skin.
No not yet, don't absolve this sin.

Ten feet under you’ll bury me in your memories and in the ground.
Black clothes cover smiles of dark deceit and you’ll laugh without a sound.
Church bells start to ring as you tear away the lies and all our ties.
The mask melts away while the worms make me pay.
Don’t pray for forgiveness and don’t miss the loss of your innocence.
Shiver at the new touch and its fulfilling rush.
But it won’t feel the same and you’ll have me to blame.

Warmth spreads from touch and tongue,
warm breath from hot lung.
We are laying in bed- waiting to paint our world red
and I am dwelling on every little thing you have said.
Wishes float in the air-
and your hands encompass everything I’ve sought,
here we live in a thought.
Bones form a full body with moving dynamics
and your mind fills with ad hominem tricks.
I’ll look through your skin; it’ll look back in shame of its sin.
Indulgence of the flesh, the meat of your faults melt when our hands mesh.  
A single frame doesn’t move, bordered by broken limbs and forgotten whims.
Your kiss smears on my cheek, softly we become weak.

Hold close your bit of me defined,
and I'll grip tightly to the only chipped piece left behind.

Boorish words fall out of my mind across a page so white.
Is this what great poets accomplish, a drivel of the mind, a sludge that distends from me to you?
No, this is emotion wonderland, a through the rabbit hole tumble to the topsy turvy world of Ben.
There is no great poet; only man, no contemporary English genius in hiding within I; only me.
A curvy frame belies an interest in the obvious.
You’re distracted by the pretty girl, and her enormous ******* hang in your vision.
Maybe there is nothing beyond her *******; a seemingly infinite reality is etched on her soft flesh.  
A reality of many options, luminous statues roped off to the touch.
The bent frames of a social enterprise, thousands of years of thought piled in a heap, reach for the stars!  
What happens to the old ideas?
Where do my metaphors go to die?
I hope it’s not my imagination, littered with already lost initiative, now running from my searching eye.

He slides under her skin
He plays with her heart
watching it slowly beat
watching her chest slowly rise and lower
Feeling her goose bumps rise against his searching fingers
this is his game
and she is but a player
with everything to lose