a shadow within the shadows
in front behind in between
eyes they must dart quickly
if the shadow's to be seen

from doorway to darkened doorway
a path less traveled on
if mortal words were used to describe
mere words they would be wrong

is there gain inside the purpose
are thoughts heard in puddles of rain
can shadows reflect a color
unlike the darkened heart of man

if these questions all intrigue you
if there's a scraping two doors down
your soul may know the answer
before your body hits the ground

you may wonder of the nature
of the shadow void of light
strong advice, avoid darkened doorways
that hold shadows in the night

Geraldine
riding home

on the bus
after work

sitting there
in the crowd

thinking of
her lover

sweet Holly
lying there

in the ****
all the night

her small globes
kiss ready

legs parted
hotly moist

waiting for
Geraldine's

snake like tongue
spider like

*******
between thighs

watery
sea blue eyes

uttering words
I love you

between the
oohs and ahs

whispered sighs
of just there

gets me hot
just that spot

she sways slow
to bus's swerve

a bell's pressed
at the front

but all that
Geraldine

can think of
is Holly

and Holly's
moistful ****.

He is not vile.
He shoved her carelessly out of his space.
Buried her under a pile of rubble.
Some kind of punishment for bursting his bubble.
Does she care.
No, not her .
Has desire to come to him.
To scratch her way through soiled skin.
So she can spit toxins in his unjustly vile eyes.
Just like the ones he spat in hers.
Toxins like the ones he poisoned her with.
Jesus,
Her brother, her fellow man.
She's glad to be free.
Such an atrocity in fair English city.
He held tight the rose of England.
Nicked his finger on her thorns.
It bled red love away.
She wishes like his kisses, that she were dead.
He thinks he wants that too!
But he knows his bleeding finger lingers.
Hidden somewhere in his heart of memories so tender!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

hand-caresses all over the chest,
****** licking and pinching,
tickling the belly with a solitary
tongue-wetted finger.

in someone's possession,
the
on/off switch,
seems to be
busted.

so when
a pause to breathe,
asking me what does
one want for
breakfast,

I answer Her,

*"Please sir, I want some more."

I am like the cracked sidewalk
Slowly eroding
With fading colors and
Roots breaking through

The sidewalk is ancient
And not very beautiful
Just plain and gray
With millions of stories
But with not much importance

Walked all over
Stepped on
And engraved
Having seen thousands
of lovers pass by
And countless memories created
But it didn't partake in any
Loves
Adventures
Or stories

And no one seemed to ever
Look at the sidewalk
Or find beauty in its cracks
It was simply just to step on
And walk away
Without a thank you

So it slowly covers
With dead fall leaves
And chewed up gum
Developing more cracks
Desperately waiting for
Maintenance to come