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Matthew Oct 2020
In Our Rising Steam

we speak
in flirty languages
raising steam
sharpen tongues
taking playful stabs
raising steam
slapping hands
as to say stop it
flipping hair
in the rising steam
eyes flicker come-hither
touching words
raising steam
double entendres
hearts beating
loves songs
raising steam
your place in my space
lips slipping into a kiss
raising steam
fingers fight
button tight
wetting dreams
in our rising steam
Matthew Oct 2020
I'm under this foggy you
driving blind
through a dessert desert
of mounting pleasures
the lace of your name
tightening my shoes
I can't escape
your pulling draw strings
roping us closer
to imminent sensual danger
our eminence to the kissing text
I'm feeling you now
stirring my desires
ensnared through your night
blowing my candle
to be your wish
Matthew Oct 2020
two a.m. on a temperature chilling October morn
sitting in a Lovecraft silence of
beastly creatures
sleeping in the earth
under bed and basement
the earworms dig in
with Steven King ambitions
as my lids slit to stay awake
the draping Wes Craven curtains
part to my next dream sequence
falling into hell's revenge
the Clive Barker pains of
pinhead punishments
feel believingly real
though I'm dead to the world
in a Jordan Peele trance
stiff with only mental movements
at the wheel of a Detroit demon
flaming down the to slow
to get away pedestrians
who's evil doings have done me wrong
I'm alive in the thrill of the ****
to **** without remorse
with Anne Rice stirring arousal
seated shotgun
queening the dammed
the fallen the unbathedsouls
getting bathed in the endless
bloodbath of her draining rein
to empty their cold dying hearts
hopelessly trapped
in her dark minded chronicles
I found was the ending road
with no uturn from the limboed
feasting humanoids
in a Abraham "Bram" Stoker scenario
thirsty to **** the lifeliquid
from limbs and neck-vines
shockingly terrifying me
from my zombie like state
eyes wide open and breathing
in a pandemic like panic
darkened with the next dusking day.
Matthew Jul 2020
you owe me, some slow times
a slow swaying dance,
slow moving hands,
a few slow easy mornings,

hugs in the slow to rise sunlight,
more soft slow burning kissing
a slow stroll through the roses
words slow to read
throught the tears, poetry

slow emotional love making,
without dought
slow to get home nights
and slow to leave the bed days

no worries though
you can pay me back
slowly of course
with all my interest
slow to never fade away
Matthew Jul 2020
a love so much so much
still after time has had
some time to sew the scars
you know that scenario
in the movie alien
where the alien burst forth through
the poor soul's love cage
so much so much I love
I'm a wounded fish out of her water
striving to breathe her skin
but the sharp talons of reasoning
anchored by stubborn requirements
our concrete never cured without cracks
and when any interaction
is like a fist in the face
the tears can't be held back
the anger to strike out erupts
a reflect of psychological projection
to cope with the *******
I'm dead inside
an you're to blame feelings
so so so much I loved
but our death star chance's
came to fruition
Matthew Jul 2020
lies are mine to tell
truth is yours to find
my true heart
Matthew Jul 2020
the kansas beauty
and the michigan poet
sung of cliche faces,
shallow eyes, blind smiles,
brutal words, hostile handshakes
and the cold realities

walking upon glass bridges
over quicksand seas
then driving in alive
rowing to isolations
hiding farm castles of
the abandoned kind

where they'd go
to keep their spirits high
tickling the strings
crying acoustic thunder
across the plowed fields
and the great lake filled dreams

the weight of broken beats
hollowed by the heart
heavy on somber sands
as they hug the spot light
in a folksy nowhere little town
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