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Mark me
like a permanent marker stain on my collarbones,
a smear of bruised flesh, painted with possessive fury.
I'll mark you with my nails,
crescents like waning moons on your back--
but we aren't waning,
we're waxing,
glowing,
night lovin'
creatures.
professional poetic lust
I wonder if you
ever wore your
heart on the
sleeve
of the shirt
I stole.

Regardless,
I'm sure
that there's space
for mine.
She had an appeal, attraction
One in which could never be named
Or known.
Her spirit attracted souls -
The injured, the sore, the sorrows
Of those smothered by darkness.
She reassured those pained of
The life that could be lived.
She painted pictures with her eyes
Of the landscapes that raised her
In the outback hills, riding horses
Freely, wild.
She was a blank page -
She could be anyone or anything
Your imagination could dream.
Her body contorted
Every personality was saved within.
The souls she allowed inhabit
Were of mystic mediums, she was
A passer of all.
She was the poignant reminder of suffering
Of past, present and future.
And it was that vulnerability
That vacant distance in her eyes
Those windows into a soul,
Suppressed, restrained
******* of self.
It was that vulnerability
That sent a small sparrow
Barely out of the nest
To drown in rivers of despair so young.
© Sia Jane
The day brings light
two lovers effortlessly
become one
As their incarcerated souls
deep below earth & soil
are merged in gothic
ghastly chambers.

Sunlight forces a subtle
glow from the life
once held
A life two lovers were at
war with above that ground
where children innocently
play pretend.

Ghosts & monsters
hunter & huntsman
they are hidden
From the evils to which
the night bestowed
what many would curse
cruel & beastly.

But, for these lovers
eternal life & eternal love
is a blessing
Those fangs they did free
you & I
for they gave us
infinity.

© Sia Jane
"Answering Back" to another's work
Based on the original poem by  Brandon Antonio Smith http://hellopoetry.com/brandon-antonio-smith/
Called  "Ode For Vampires"

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/953604/ode-for-vampires/
Something we call "Answering Back"
A voiced poetic reply to another's work.
Hope
You enjoy both ***
I am not yet defiled; O hear me.
Let not the crazed hornets or serpents or ophidian or the
   buzzard bee come near me.

I am not yet defiled; console me.
I fear that the snake charmer may with rhythmic body clocks clock me,
   with predatory hissing paralyze me, with authoritative power anger me,
      on wicker constraints constrain me, in bamboo-patches pierce me.

I am not yet defiled; provide me
With beauty to free me, dressage to cover me, silence to come
   to me, souls to save me, charmers and angels
     in my wandering existence seeking fights to waver the war within me.

I am not yet defiled; forgive me
For the provocative glances in me, my presence when womanity holds me,
   my mythological beauty by deities beyond me,
      my head held high when they slay by means of my
         crossbow, my addiction when they poison me.

I am not yet defiled; rehearse me
In the dreams and the prayers I must take when
   art interrupts me, material disturbs me, splintered souls
     gaze at me, smiles fade at me, the knifes edge
       stains me and everlasting scars pain
         me to shame and the shames taints
           my skin and my heart abandons me.

I am not yet defiled; O hear me,
Let not Perseus who is warrior or who thinks he is King
     or a rival to me.

I am not yet defiled; O fill me
With gasoline against those who would inhabit my
  bones, would sink me into empty caverns,
    would make me a prisoner locked, a monster with
      blood dripping, a monster, and a passer of dis-ease
        who would execute my self, would
          flush me like ***** oozing and
            ***** and ooze and *****
              like alcohol seeping in the
                pores would drown me.

Let Poseidan not make me defiled and let him not **** me.
Otherwise **** me.

© Sia Jane
I cannot lay claims for all this poem. I did spend many hours last night, taking a Louis MacNeice poem, called "Prayer before Birth" http://www.poetryarchive.org/poem/prayer-birth, and adapting it to the story of Medussa. This is the outcome.
Your love again,
                         caught me off guard
An invasion of,
                         the very same body
snatches,
that once again
emphatically dominated every
white cell.

Defences beaten,
                           down to
                                        the bare bones.

A hospital room
                          for broken hearts reserved.

Time stands still,
                           not even
the ticking of a clock
to count the days
til the grave I will fly.

A tombstone engraved -
She never would learn


© Sia Jane
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